Hauntings
by Phieri
Summary: Still haunted by the horrors of Kijuju, Sheva Alomar tries to overcome her nightmares by accepting a new mission that reunites her with Chris Redfield and thrusts her into a life of terror, lust, and deceit. ChrisxSheva/ChrisxJill.
1. Chapter 1: Nightmares

Disclaimer: Of course, all the characters belong to Capcom and whoever else. Certainly not me!

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

She hated to be alone now.

Even the smallest of noises in the night made her awaken with a start, and voices outside her door, no matter how friendly-sounding, made her scrabble for her pistol. It was getting harder and harder to sleep without fear of having terrible, vivid dreams of the horrors she had endured a few weeks prior: dirty, muscular hands eager to throttle her, the disgusting parasites that burst out of human mouths, and worst of all, the red, glowing eyes of a mutated Albert Wesker. These images had seared themselves into her brain, and although she could consciously force them away, it was in the throes of sleep where she would be assaulted, completely defenseless to them.

Sheva Alomar was no coward, but such horrors have a habit of haunting even the strongest of people.

This fear was the reason why BSAA Captain Josh Stone was in Sheva's apartment at two in the morning, his powerful body sprawled on her leather couch lazily.

"I should be going soon, Sheva," said Josh, stifling a yawn. "It's late, and not even a weekend!"

"What does that matter?" teased Sheva, giving him a playful shove. "We're both on leave anyway. We won't be on active duty again for another month!"

"That's true," admitted Josh. "And to be perfectly honest, I'm getting bored already! I wouldn't mind going back a bit early, you know."

Sheva made a face. "Late-night parties and drinks are way more fun than work. Besides, that business at Kijuju was enough action to last me a lifetime."

Josh laughed, looking at Sheva fondly. "You're still so young. Maybe when you're my age, you won't be so keen on the parties and drinks. You're right about Kijuju though…you did a good job there, you know."

"As did you!" said Sheva, nudging him slightly so that she could sit on the couch as well. There was a short lull in the conversation, where both BSAA agents' thoughts swept back to the unfortunate incident. Sheva broke the silence finally, her voice tentative.

"But…" she hesitated, her expression serious now, "But Josh, can't I ask you something?"

"Of course you can," replied Josh, beaming. "You know you can ask me anything, Sheva!"

"Do you think about the things that happened…there?"

Josh furrowed his brow and locked eyes with his friend, his face devoid of laughter now. "It's best not to. Dwelling on things like that can make any man go mad. Those things we saw…they weren't normal. Perhaps it's what you should expect from working for the BSAA, but all the same…don't think about those evils too heavily."

Sheva rose from her seat and poured herself a shot of vodka. Silent, she drank it deftly and toyed with the tiny glass, mulling over Josh's words. The pretty, young woman sighed finally and turned around once more to look at Josh, who was eyeing her with some concern.

"I don't mean to," she said softly. "But I have bad dreams…nightmares. I don't always have them – not every day. But when I do, they're awful, and they're more frequent than I would like."

"And how frequent do you mean?" said Josh, standing up also. He crossed the room in three easy strides and put an arm around the woman who he cared for as much as any blood-relative. "Have you seen a psychiatrist? I know this happens to some agents more than others, but it's not a good thing no matter what."

"A few times a week," said Sheva reluctantly, seeing Josh's face fall. "Won't I just forget? The fear has to wear off eventually."

"We all have dreams sometimes," said Josh slowly. "People that have jobs like us…there's no way we can get out of it all in one piece. Some people lose limbs, and others….they'll lose a bit of their sanity."

"Don't scare me like that," said Sheva, smiling, but inwardly she was worried. The smile did not throw Josh off, and he embraced her protectively.

"If you keep having the dreams, you must go to the doctor. In the meantime though, keep yourself occupied. Maybe the horrors will subside – I don't know. I hope so."

"Me too," murmured Sheva into his chest. She felt safe there, and for the second time in her life she considered kissing him. The first time had been soon after they had met, before they had developed a much more platonic bond. This time, she figured that the many alcoholic drinks she had consumed had something to do with it, but she didn't care. Chris Redfield flashed through her mind suddenly, followed by a sinking feeling that he was probably cuddled up with Jill Valentine somewhere in the States, and with that she made up her mind.

She looked up at Josh demurely, and when his gaze met hers, she put a soft hand on his face and lowered his lips to hers. Josh was much too bewildered to resist initially, but after a few seconds he broke away from the kiss and held her at arm's length, his face stunned.

It wasn't that he didn't find her attractive– she was a very beautiful girl, with a lithe, athletic body, smoky, sensual eyes, and quite a nice ass on top of it all. However, he had been her superior in the BSAA, trained her, looked out for her, and kept the lustful, younger soldiers at bay with his menacing presence. If anything, she was like a little sister to him, one that he wanted to protect from the world's evils.

But goddamn, that ass! It was enough to tempt a man. With a sigh, he forced himself from the inviting idea, and when he spoke, it was in a calm, soothing manner.

"Sheva, you've had too much to drink, and you're scared. I'll help you to bed, and I'll clean up here. You don't have to worry about a thing."

"I'm not drunk," protested Sheva. "And I'm not a child. Don't you want me?"

"You are incredibly beautiful, and you already have my heart," said Josh, looking away as Sheva slipped out of her halter top. "Now, stop that. You'll regret it in the morning. Please, Sheva," he pleaded, and Sheva stopped undressing, her expression defeated.

"Fine," she huffed unhappily, tossing her shirt on the floor. "It's alright – I can clean up and get to bed on my own."

"I will help," said Josh softly. The pair put away the used glasses and plates in an awkward silence, and when that was done, Josh made his way to the door, stopping briefly when his hand reached the doorknob.

"Sleep well, Sheva. You're a tough girl. You don't need me or anyone else, I know. But if you ever do find that you need someone to talk to, you know I'll always be here for you."

"I know," said Sheva tiredly. "And I'm sorry for…earlier. Goodnight, Josh."

Josh nodded at her and patted her shoulder before exiting the room. She watched him walk down the hall out towards the main door before closing her own and bolting it.

"What the hell has gotten into me," she said to herself aloud, making her way to the bathroom. At the faucet, she turned the knob to the coldest option, and was unusually irritated to find the water still fairly lukewarm. She splashed the water on her face nonetheless, allowing the droplets to trickle down her neck.

She dried her face on a fluffy, lavender-colored towel and collapsed on her bed gratefully. She was tired and her head was still muddy with the effects of vodka and tequila. Perhaps she would get through the night without any nightmares this time.

The young woman curled up on the bed and was soon dozing serenely.

Three hours later she was awake, her eyes bloodshot and her chest heaving as if she had been running for miles. The cat-like eyes of Albert Wesker flashed through her mind, the thought of his inhumanly strong hand crushing her throat made it hard for her to breathe even now.

She had to do something about this. The nightmare was not going to go away on its own.


	2. Chapter 2: Distractions

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters! But of course, you guys already know that. X)

Also, many thanks to all that reviewed! You guys are wonderful!

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

The sun was just shedding its first rays of light onto the humid, African terrain when Sheva stepped out of her apartment, clad in a simple tank top, shorts, and running shoes. The dark circles underneath her eyes that she had tried to mask with a touch of concealer were only partially hidden away from the world: a careful look at her would give away the fact that she had spent hours of the night wide-awake. In truth, she was tired, but she also felt quite restless, and after a few hours of attempting to fall back into slumber, she had gotten out of bed and decided to go for a run.

The streets of the bustling city were no place for a jogger. The main road was lined with vendors assembling their merchandise, and the smell of crackling meat and fried bananas wafted in the smoggy, morning air. As Sheva weaved through the streets, which, even in the early morning, were already becoming crowded, vendors beckoned to her enticingly, waving small paper plates topped with all manner of tasty morsels.

Giving in finally, the young woman bought a freshly baked roll with a crispy, brown outer layer, and she gnawed on this absentmindedly as she made her way to the headquarters of BSAA West Africa Branch. It was not a far walk, and in about fifteen minutes she had presented her identification to the guards and was walking towards the BSAA workout facility.

"Sheva!"

Sheva turned around to see a gangly soldier trotting up to her, a big smile fixed on his boyish face. She smiled also and allowed David a hug. She had trained with David under Josh Stone for eight months, and was incredibly glad that David had not been a part of the doomed Alpha and Delta teams during the Kijuju mission.

"What are you doing back here already?" teased David, giving her a nudge. "Go back home and sleep like lazy Captain Stone is probably doing."

Sheva feigned a grimace. "I'm not old like Josh is. I'd rather go for a run then sleep."

David winked. "I'm sure the men around here wouldn't mind if you slept _around_ more often."

"Hey, you know what I meant," retorted Sheva, swatting at David's arm playfully.

"But on that note," cut in David quickly, "Are you free to go out tonight? There are some guys from the East Africa Branch here today, just having a look-over at facilities here and stuff. Me and Amir went to talk to them, and they said the bitches here weren't as hot as they ones they got over at their branch. Pardon the bitch thing," he added apologetically. "Just getting it word-for-word is all."

Sheva raised an eyebrow. "So you want me to go out tonight just to prove to some random guys that you do know a few good-looking girls?"

"Sounds about right. It's a party-type thing. One of those East-African guys is really rich, and the booze'll be free," said David, grinning. "Hana is coming too, and she's pretty friendly on the eyes, but I think you're prettier," he said cajolingly.

"How flattering," said Sheva sarcastically, but she shrugged also. "I don't mind coming. I've got nothing better to do. This leave isn't nearly as fun as I thought it'd be."

"Excellent!" said David. "Wear something slutty, alright?"

Sheva gave her friend a withering look, and he laughed cheekily.

"Classy," he amended. "Yeah, I meant to say classy."

"Right," said Sheva, laughing. "Sure you did."

After noticing the disapproving glare of his supervisor, David returned to his post reluctantly, and Sheva, glad to be distracted from thoughts of Wesker and nightmares, began her morning jog in high spirits.

In about an hour, the young woman had slowed to a walk, and her legs were aching and her shirt clung to her sweaty body uncomfortably. Regardless, she felt quite exhilarated and was greatly looking forward to hitting the showers when three unfamiliar men dressed in the typical BSAA uniforms intercepted her. Two of the men were flanking the third, who was both incredibly tall, muscled, and, Sheva noticed, quite handsome. She suddenly felt quite conscious of the sweat that glistened on her skin, but she pushed the thought from her mind and offered the men a curt smile. "Excuse me," she began, ready to bypass them, but the tall man grabbed her arm and stopped her, his expression curious.

"Is this the legendary Sheva Alomar?" he asked, his eyebrows raised.

Sheva pulled away from his grip, slightly annoyed that he had grabbed her instead of requesting her to stop politely. "Yes, that's right," she said coolly. "Though where you get the legendary bit is beyond me, sir."

The handsome man grinned at her, though the smile did not reach his dark brown, hawk-like eyes. "Why, of course we all know you. You're the poster child of both the Africa Branches," he said. "We were all made to read that report that you and Chris Redfield detailed. Lucky girl," he added wistfully. "You're probably due for a promotion soon, I bet."

"I was just doing my job," said Sheva shortly, irritated with the man's mannerisms, but the he interrupted her again, his face more apologetic this time.

"Sorry I didn't introduce myself. I'm Captain Derek Pierce of the East Africa Branch. Pleased to meet you, of course," he said charmingly, offering Sheva a hand.

Sheva wiped her sweaty palm on her shirt unobtrusively before taking his hand. "Pleasure's all mine," she returned politely.

"My father owns Pierce Telecommunications," added Derek suddenly. "The headquarters is near here, and he requested I be closer to him, and as such I'm considering a relocation here if I'm permitted. I suppose the facilities are up to par, so it'll have to do," he said with a shrug.

"Lacking in good-looking women though?" jibed Sheva, remembering the words that David had imparted on her, and Derek laughed.

"I suppose my reputation _would_ be tarnished already. Keep in mind that I hadn't met you before making such a comment," he said, offering her a sly smile. "I will say I was surprised to see how pretty you were after reading your profile. I thought you'd be some massive, Amazon-type woman, but you do suit me just right," he said, and Derek's friends snickered.

Sheva's faced reddened with embarrassment, but she was more offended than flattered. What a pig this man was! And so presumptuous! "Not at all sexist, are you?" she retorted.

Derek grinned. "Don't act so affronted, agent. I was just joking with you. Please forgive me if I offended you, and come down to the party I'm having tonight for a lot of the BSAA agents and battalions here. I'll make it up to you," he promised.

Sheva smirked. "So it was your party that I was invited to earlier. Just trying to round up more females to attend, is it?"

"Oh, they'll be plenty of females there," assured Derek. "But they may be of a stripper variety, and your presence would be much appreciated."

"I'll think about it," said Sheva, blushing slightly again. Being in a male-dominated work environment, she was used to thoroughly male conversations about sex, strippers, and other unwholesome topics, and while she took them all lightly, she still felt rather uncomfortable discussing such things with strangers.

"Be there," encouraged Derek. "And," he added as an afterthought, "Invite Josh Stone, won't you? I read that you trained under him, and you two seem to be close."

"Josh," repeated Sheva, taken aback. "Do you know him, too?"

"We trained together," said Derek, shrugging. "We had a bit of a falling out, but we once were on friendly terms. I'd like to make it up to him. You two are very good friends, yes?"

"Yes, we are," said Sheva carefully. "I'll see what I can do."

Derek nodded. "Thank you. It was nice meeting you, Agent Alomar."

"It was nice meeting you too," said Sheva, almost mechanically. She did not particularly like Derek, for all that he was handsome and wealthy, and yet there was a raw, almost carnal attraction to him that she couldn't really shake off. She did not like this feeling, though, and she pushed it to the back of her mind as she walked to the showers finally. She was no longer sweaty, but she felt somehow dirty, and she relished as the hot water scoured her body, washing away any feelings of shame and filth that she was feeling along with it.

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><p>After mere seconds from stepping out of the showers, now damp-haired and smelling of perfumey soap, Sheva was accosted by a blonde, middle-aged man who seemed both surprised and relieved to see her.<p>

"Agent Alomar! You're exactly the person who I wanted to see. I was just going to kip into my office to call you, but here you are! Training, were you?"

"Went for a jog, Director," said Sheva with a nod. "I don't want to be out of shape for when I get back on active duty."

"Good girl," said Director Matthews approvingly. "Could be sooner than you think, actually."

The director was in his early-fifties, with grey streaks in his golden hair, and steely-blue eyes. He had been a field agent for twenty years before landing a much more comfortable job at the BSAA's West Africa branch, where he oversaw agents' missions and other BSAA duties. He was a strict man, and had an unfortunately tendency to play favorites with his agents, but he did his job well, and no one really complained. Certainly not to his face, at least.

"What did you want to see me for?" asked Sheva curiously, and the director nodded his head toward the elevator.

"To my office, then. I don't want to discuss important matters out here."

The director's office was opulent, to say the least. The lamps were plated in shining gold, and on the ground was an authentic Persian rug that must have cost a pretty penny. It was rumored that Damien Matthews had invested well in numerous business-type escapades, and that had paved his way to an impressive fortune. Why he continued working instead of settling down comfortably in the United States, his homeland, was a mystery, but it was generally surmised that life as an agent had made the thought of a soft retirement unappealing and boring.

At the director's motion, Sheva took a seat in one of the sleek, oak chairs, and waited for Matthews to speak. The man straightened the papers on his desk and glanced at his cell phone before turning to Sheva. She thought he looked a little uneasy, but she couldn't decide why and shrugged the thought away.

"Agent Alomar," said Matthews finally. "You've been offered another assignment. A long-term mission. You would take at least a year's leave from here, maybe longer, depending on how you handle things."

"Where?" asked Sheva inquisitively.

"The United States – Atlanta, Georgia, to be precise. BSAA requirements for the assignment include previous experience in the field and anonymity in the United States. The applicant for the mission must be an American citizen and female, with a college degree in the sciences. You fit the bill, and headquarters was really impressed with how you worked with Redfield in Kijuju, so they requested you. They know you're technically on leave, so they'll look for someone else if necessary, but they want you."

"Female, with a degree in the sciences?" asked Sheva, incredulous. "What will this entail? What sort of assignment is this? A year….I mean, that is a long time…"

"You'll be undercover, working at a large pharmaceuticals company – Biochort. I'm sure you've heard of them? The CEO there is a shady character, so you'll be tailing him. There has been suspicion that he is working with a foreign government to create bioterrorist weapons to use against the United States. However, there is little evidence so far. That being said, there's a job opening at his company, and you'll have to apply. You see, you're one of the few agents who are actually qualified for this job."

Sheva raised her eyebrows. "And the female part? And…the actual job description?"

Matthews grinned. "The job opening is a research position. The applicant needs a general knowledge in either biology, chemistry, or both. You'll be working with a research team, and the head researcher will be directing you, for the most part. As for the female aspect…well, Biochort is known to be heavily male-dominated. Of course that never bodes well for a company, since rumors of sexism start to arise, and then the law suits start pouring in. To combat this, pretty much all of the job openings they have now will strongly prefer female applicants, though naturally they can't officially bar males from applying. A woman will get the job though."

Sheva frowned. "How do you even know they'll hire me? This is a very prestigious company, sir. There will probably be dozens of applicants."

Matthews waved her concern away with a careless hand. "You'll get the job. You forget that the BSAA and the American government are behind this mission, Alomar. If you agree to this, you'll be the one who gets the job."

"I'll have to think about this," said Sheva, after a pregnant pause. "This isn't something I could really quit halfway, is it?"

"Probably not," admitted Matthews. "Not unless it became much too hazardous for your safety. We would send in a team then, in that case, but I do think this is pretty low-key at the moment. You probably won't even have to touch a weapon."

"That's nice at least," admitted the young woman. "And one last thing," she hesitated before plowing forward, "You're certain my identity hasn't been compromised? I know all the papers gave me a pseudonym, but if this guy works at a pharmaceutical facility and is messing around with bioterrorist weaponry, I can only suspect he's done his research on the BSAA…"

"I wouldn't order you into the field if I wasn't sure you would be safe," promised Matthews. "Please let me know of your decision as soon as possible. We need to know whether to continue looking for someone else."

"Yes, sir," said Sheva, rising from her seat. "Thank you for the opportunity."

"You're the best person for the job," replied Matthews. "You should take it."

Sheva did not respond, but smiled and retreated from the room. Damien Matthews watched the young agent leave the room, his expression difficult to decipher.

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><p>Sheva met up with Josh Stone at a local café for lunch. She had invited her friend out on short notice, but he agreed readily and the two had soon decided on a fashionable, new place to dine. The wait was not too lengthy, and soon the pair was seated by a trendy young woman who offered them a large, fake smile and menus.<p>

"Do you know Captain Pierce?" mentioned Sheva offhandedly, her eyes sweeping over the menu.

"Pierce? Derek Pierce?" said Josh, his voice rather flat. "Yes, I know him. How do you know him?"

"I met him today," replied Sheva, shrugging. "He's a bit of a jackass."

"An understatement," said Josh, rather aggressively. "He's not a good man, Sheva."

"How do you mean?" asked Sheva, looking up from her menu to lock eyes with Josh. "He mentioned you. He said he'd like to make things up to you. He invited both of us to this party he's having tonight."

Josh snorted. "I'm not going to any party of his. Trust me, he's not trying to make things up to me. He probably just wants to rub in the fact that he's a millionaire, while I'm nothing close."

"So you were friends with him, then?" said Sheva, furrowing her brow. "What happened between you two to make you distrust him so much?"

"He's screwed me over too many times to count, while feigning friendship. I'd rather not go into the details," said Josh shortly.

"So you won't go to his party?"

"No, I don't think so. He hates me as much as I hate him. I don't even know why he invited me."

"Should…I go then?" asked Sheva tentatively. "I mean, if you say he's such a jerk…"

Josh hesitated. "He throws excellent parties, it's true. I don't want to deprive you of fun, and I think with so many other friends around you, you have nothing to worry about. Just be careful around him. He's a womanizer and a sneaky, backstabbing son-of-a-bitch."

"Right," said Sheva. "Right…"

There was a lull in the conversation. Sheva toyed with the idea of telling Josh about her proffered mission, but decided against it. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to take the job, and she wanted to decide for herself before notifying anyone else about it. Besides, the café was such a public place, hardly somewhere to discuss something so private…

Finally, Josh changed the subject, and in a few minutes the conversation began to possess a much lighter, enjoyable tone. Lunch passed quickly and amiably, and all too soon they were parting. Sheva felt an unusual closeness to Josh, and her thoughts returned to the previous night, when he had rejected her advances. The thought made her physically pained.

What was wrong with her? When did she become so needy? Walking out of the restaurant, she looked up at the clouds, frustrated. The Kijuju incident had not made her stronger. Despite the horrors she had faced and endured, she felt more insecure. It had all been so real, and it had made her feel so insignificant. Since her scarred childhood, she had forced herself to become the best she could be, and she had been top of her class in both college and in her BSAA training. She had been familiar with death since a young age, but the horrors out there were now so real. She wanted someone there to protect her, to love her, to make life worth living…

And perhaps…perhaps it was jealousy too. The thought of Chris Redfield drifted into her mind a little too often, and she hated it. Though she had not worked with him for very long, the experiences that they had shared had driven them close. He called her at times, and she knew that Kijuju had scarred him just as badly. Yet, while he called her to vent his frustrations and fears, she was not the one who he wanted in his arms. Jill Valentine ruled his heart, and it killed Sheva to think on this for too long. She liked Jill and admired her greatly, but the thought of her kissing Chris, making love to him…the thought made her nauseous. She wanted someone of her own to take her mind off Chris, however selfish that might be.

Sheva sighed as she fumbled in her purse for the keys to her apartment. Maybe she'd find someone who would sweep her off her feet at Derek Pierce's soiree. At the very least it was a comforting idea, and with that goal in mind, she set off to prepare herself for the evening's festivities.


	3. Chapter 3: Worst Day Ever

_Disclaimer: I don't own Resident Evil. Haven't we made this clear already? x3_

_Other stuffs: Thank you guys so much for reading and reviewing! I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it. You guys are wonderful. Also, I'm gonna go ahead and apologize for changing the rating of this fic from M to T to M again. I thought I could scrape by with a T rating, but this chapter proved me wrong. Dun dun dun. (: Also, for you Valenfield lovers...the next chapter will probably be focused primarily around them. Might take me a little longer to update though - classes starting soon! Anyhow, enjoy, and do let me know if you guys would like to see any particular characters make cameo appearances ;3_

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><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

Heaps of clothing were strewn about messily on the floor as Sheva Alomar rummaged through her closet for a proper outfit to wear to the party of Captain Derek Pierce. Everything she had tried on so far had either seemed too modest or too ordinary, and tonight was one night she wanted to appear fairly jawdropping. She had always enjoyed fashion, especially after her time in the United States, but had never found a need to buy too many miniskirts or fancy dresses with plunging necklines, and for this reason she was rather lacking in plausible outfit options.

But….there was one possibility left, and this one she did not particularly like because it was a little bit _too _much for her. Though black and fairly simple in design, it was obviously a dress designed to accentuate the body instead of being a particularly impressive piece of clothing. It was a short, tiny, thing that showed off an awful lot of thigh, and the neckline was fairly nonexistent, providing a considerable glimpse breast. Sheva had bought this dress but figured she would never have an opportunity to wear it, and now that she had one she was no longer sure whether she wanted to.

She had waited a bit too long to prepare for the party though, and there was little time to find another, more suitable piece of clothing. The fact that the strippers there would probably be wearing at least slightly less than she was planning to assuaged her feeling of apprehension slightly, and with a determined set of her jaw she slipped on the scant garment and viewed herself in the mirror.

"I look like a whore," said Sheva aloud, frowning. However, she thought suddenly of how she had failed to seduce both Josh and catch the eye of Chris, and this thought gave her the audacity to wear the dress finally. Sighing, she decided to at least complete the ensemble artfully. She chose delicate diamond earrings that would glitter in dim light every time she tossed her head, and silver bangles that matched the earrings perfectly. A simple silver necklace and sleek, strappy 4-inch high heels completed the outfit, and dark mascara, smoky eye shadow and liner, and some slightly color-tinted lipgloss finished her look. As she scrutinized herself in the mirror, even she had to admit that she looked pretty damn good.

She did a twirl in front of the mirror, and then laughed at her own frivolity before grabbing her purse and heading out the door into the night.

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><p>The extravagant party of Captain Derek Pierce was held at one of the several mansions that Lyon Pierce, Derek's father and President of Pierce Telecommunications, owned but rarely resided in. It was an arabesque, beautiful residence. The ceilings were high and gilded, and from them hung glittering, diamond and crystal chandeliers. The floors were made of shining marble, and the stair banisters were carved intricately. The entire manor was furnished tastefully and expensively, and was well guarded by armed men dressed in black who seemed to blend in with the surroundings as easily as panthers in the night.<p>

The sheer opulence of the fete stunned even Sheva. She had been to bars and house parties and even frat parties while in college, but a millionaire's party was much different. Inside, the lights were dim, the music blaring, and attractive servers bearing shots of Grey Goose and fancy Long Island Iced Teas milled about, offering the drinks to handsome men in Versace suits and women decked out in flashy jewels and skimpy blouses. Mixed into the more fanciful crowd were the faces of BSAA agents and workers, their expressions incredulous and awed. There was little class distinction however, for, as Josh had said, Derek was a good party-thrower, and everyone felt quite welcome regardless of wealth or occupation.

Sheva navigated around the hall cautiously, weaving through young women already drunk and giggling furiously, and couples grinding on each other so closely they might as well be fucking. She spotted her friend David, who was being entertaining by a long-legged, topless stripper, but even he managed to tear his eyes away upon seeing Sheva.

"Fuck, Sheva. I said classy, remember?" he jested as his eyes washed over her, his words a little slurred but good-natured all the same.

"I remember it differently," bantered Sheva, grinning at him.

"Well, gotta say, I don't mind. Keep dressing like that, and you'll have Captain Stone on one knee in no time!"

"Captain Stone isn't even coming tonight," replied Sheva, her cheerful tone belying her disappointment.

"Well, Captain Pierce then!" said David, winking. "He's a helluva better catch than Stone anyway. Go snag a millionaire, sweetheart!"

"Did I hear someone mention my name?"

Derek walked up to the pair, one hand clutching a glass of whiskey, and his other arm around a slim, red-haired beauty wearing a short ruffled skirt and nothing much else. "Enjoying the party?" he asked David, and he grinned as the BSAA private nodded eagerly. "I'm glad."

The muscular, yet rather suave-looking man focused his attention on Sheva then, and his eyes swept over her body approvingly before he spoke. "You wear that dress well, Miss Alomar. " He pawned his red haired companion over to one of his friends deftly before moving closer to Sheva, his grin apologetic.

"I've got so many ladies chasing after me that I don't even know what to do with them half the time," he said innocently.

Sheva laughed shortly. "Is that right, Captain Pierce? Somehow, I doubt that…"

Derek shrugged carelessly. "Well, I can't help what they do, right? I see you're not drinking something right now. Let me fix that for you."

Sheva opened her mouth to protest, but he grabbed her hand and led her to the bar, where he motioned the bartender over.

"Something sexy and strong for this beautiful thing," Derek demanded. "This one is BSAA – I'm sure she can hold her alcohol."

"Sexy and strong, for the pretty girl," repeated the bartender, sliding a rose-colored drink to Sheva.

Sheva took a sip and slid the drink back. "Not strong enough," she said sweetly, and the bartender grinned at Derek.

"I like this one, Pierce."

"I like her too, "drawled Derek, his eyes sweeping over Sheva again.

"Don't flatter me," said Sheva, rolling her eyes. "You say that to all the girls, of course."

"Maybe," said Derek, laughing. "So, is Captain Stone making an appearance tonight?"

Sheva shook her head. "Josh is busy tonight…" After a few seconds, she added, "He said it's too bad he had to miss your party."

This time, it was Derek who laughed. "You don't have to lie for him, Sheva. I thought maybe he might show up, but if he's not coming, then I know he still hates me. It's too bad, too…" He shrugged. "I'm sorry for the things I did to him. We were pretty much just kids then, you know."

"What happened between you two?" asked Sheva, hoping to get an answer finally, but Derek smiled and shook his head.

"If Josh didn't tell you, then I sure as hell won't. I don't need you to dislike me any more than you already do. I can tell I rubbed you the wrong way earlier, though I'm not quite sure what I did wrong. I will, however, be the most charming man here tonight and make it up to you. Maybe I'm a bit spoiled, but I can be a gentleman."

"You can try," said Sheva, tossing her head flirtatiously. Derek was certainly pretentious and arrogant, but he wasn't _so_ awful. Perhaps she'd give him a chance….

Derek motioned to the bartender for two double-shots of vodka and slid one of them to Sheva before offering his drink in the air to his companion. "Cheers. You have to come and dance with me after this one. I bet you're a good dancer."

Sheva clinked glasses with him and swallowed the drink quickly. The liquid burned down her throat, and she stifled a cough as she rose to her feet. "Oh, I am," she assured him.

As it turned out, Derek was not only a good dancer, but a charismatic one. He complimented her often and told her amusing things, and she had so little time in between the drinks he offered her that her head was swirling within a couple of hours. She noticed vaguely that his physical advances increased heavily as the night wore on, but either because of the alcohol or the constant stream of sweet words he whispered to her, she did not seem to mind too much. It felt a little bit nice to be admired so greatly by a powerful man, and the poisonous, jealous stares of the on-looking females, some incredibly beautiful, were oddly satisfying.

It might have been two minutes or two hours later when Derek leaned in close to her and purred softly, "Why don' t we find somewhere more private? There are so many people here that I can hardly focus my attention on the most _important_ person…."

Sheva was terribly drunk, but even in her state she was not completely off her guard. She knew what such an invitation insinuated, and she thought carefully about what her next move would be. Trained BSAA agent though she was, she was also still so young and, at times, a bit naïve. She had grown up poor and, after her parents' death, rather without much love in her life. She had known the pain of hunger and loneliness, and, even when she studied in America, she had never really had the time to play and be stupid and foolish and careless without consequence. She knew retreating to a "more private" place was not the action a clever, modest young woman would make, but for once she wanted to be reckless and spontaneous. Besides, weren't the insides of Pierces' sheets exactly what half the women at the party were dying to see?

"You lead the way," said Sheva, her tone sultry, and with a grin, Derek grabbed her hand and led her up the winding, marble staircase. Though many female eyes noticed this small departure jealously, only one pair of male eyes noticed at all. The owner of such eyes gave a small, intrigued snort before reaching for his cell phone to text the number of one Captain Josh Stone.

* * *

><p>It was a little past midnight when Josh's phone vibrated loudly. The Captain looked up from the television, slightly annoyed. As he reached for his phone, he wondered what the message could possibly entail this time.<p>

He had already been flooded with texts from fellow ranking BSAA officers who were at the party of Derek Pierce. Some lauded the opulence of the party, while others encouraged him to come for the sake of the free booze and numerous strippers. Finally, he had received at least a handful of texts detailing the scandalous wear of Sheva Alomar, whom they knew he was very close to. He had rebuked them all, saying he was tired, and that Sheva could wear whatever she liked. In truth, he wondered exactly how scandalous this dress of Sheva's was, and hoped that it was not enough to catch the eye of Derek. However, Sheva was a grown woman and free to make her own decisions, and both this thought and a fierce hatred of Derek kept Josh from rising out of his comfortable, leather sofa.

The newest message however, disconcerted him slightly. His eyes stared at the words, and he began to grow angry:

[**Josh u shoulda come tonite! Pierce is about to score with ur little Sheva. Man she is so fucking smashed…]**

Josh had no desire to text back and patiently wait for a slow response. Instead, he dialed his friend and fellow Captain's number, pressing the tiny buttons a little more angrily than usual. Captain Ahmed picked up after three rings, and his voice was slurred when he spoke.

"Josh! Fuck man, why aren't you here yet? The bitches here are fucking sexy…"

Josh ignored this. "Ahmed, where's Sheva? Find her – don't let that piece of shit Pierce get his hands on her!"

"I can't do that…I barely know the girl, Josh. It'd be too weird! And besides, I dunno where they are anymore. I think they're upstairs…" he trailed off.

"Upstairs?" snarled Josh. Ahmed began regaling to him about the strippers once more in a drunken tangent, and Josh closed his phone with a snap, irritated.

He tossed his phone onto the sofa and sat down again, and willed himself to continue watching television. Sheva could take care of herself, he told himself, but a nagging feeling kept the man from being able to focus on the screen. After a couple of minutes of this internal struggle, Josh rose to his feet with a sigh, and went to find his suit.

As an afterthought, he took his Beretta too.

* * *

><p>"Shit!" exclaimed Sheva, a little loudly. Derek had led her up two flights of stairs and down two long hallways and had just unlocked the door to one particularly stunning bedroom. The room itself was larger than Sheva's entire apartment, and ornately furnished, from the lush rugs on the floor to the handsomely carved canopy bed, complete with Italian silk hangings and sheets.<p>

"Shit," repeated Sheva, stumbling slightly as she reached forward to touch the sheets. "How rich are you!"

Her drunken exclamations made Derek grin slightly as he leaned forward to catch the young BSAA agent before she tripped again. "Very rich," he assured her.

Sitting her on the bed, he crossed the room to the mini-bar and uncorked a bottle of champagne. He poured a glass for Sheva and came over to sit next to her. "Here," he said, handing her the glass. "One more drink, sweetheart?"

Sheva accepted the champagne but pulled a face. "Fuck, Derek, I'm already going to be shit-faced tomorrow morning," she said, giggling. She was feeling a little sick from all the alcohol, but the spinning room and the lack of inhibitions made her feel careless and free. It was altogether a rather good feeling.

Derek eyed her thoughtfully before speaking again. "What about some E? You could use some calming down…"

"E?" asked Sheva, confused.

"Ecstasy, you silly thing," said Derek, laughing. "My god, you're a really good girl, aren't you? Why hasn't Josh snagged you up is what I'd like to know…"

"Ecstasy?" exclaimed Sheva. "That stuff isn't legal! I can't do that…I'd get kicked out of the BSAA…Are you crazy?" she practically babbled.

"Crazy for you," replied Derek, a little lamely. He pushed Sheva onto the bed and began kissing her, cutting off the rest of her drunken tirade against drugs and other illicit activities prematurely.

Derek was a rough lover, and an impatient one. One hand had already hiked up her dress and was grabbing her ass, while his other was at her throat, holding her down while his lips bruised her neck. If Sheva had not been so intoxicated, she may have found him to be a bit insulting, but as it is she did not protest much. It was only at Derek's next words that she began to feel suddenly much more aware.

"Josh is really going to be jealous, isn't he?"

Sheva's heart sank, and suddenly she felt more ill than ever. So that was it! He didn't like her…he just wanted to make Josh Stone jealous and angry. She was just a tool to him. Somehow, getting used to make someone else jealous was even worse than getting used for sex. Her face flushed and she pulled away from Derek suddenly, pushing his groping hands away from her.

"I don't want to do this anymore!" The room spun around her dizzily as Sheva stood up, and she stumbled and only just caught herself on the bedpost. "I can't. You're…you're a jackass! You're using me!" she said thickly.

Derek stood up too, and his narrowed eyes had a vindictive glint as he advanced towards her. "I am, and you'll like it too," he said, grabbing for her arm.

Sheva dodged Derek's lunge and stumbled toward the door, but to her dismay, Derek had locked it. She heard him utter a derisive laugh as she rattled the elegant, curved doorknob, and this filled her with rage. How could she have been so foolish? And she was so drunk…

Sheva's eyes scanned the room for her purse, and she ran for it and had taken out her cell phone before Derek tore it from her hands. She parried the punch that he aimed at her face, but the twist kick she attempted to deliver was sloppy and easily evaded by Derek, who smiled rather amusedly at her.

"I love girls like you. Military girls. You think you're real tough, don't you? What you lot tend to forget is that I'm BSAA too, and I'm a lot bigger than you, aren't I? Do you think you're gonna win this? I love that you're trying, though!" he sneered.

After her Kijuju experience, Sheva could hardly feel fear from this situation, and her BSAA training began to kick in as she tried to remain calm. The alcohol certainly was not helping, and now it became very clear to her why Derek had been plying her with so many drinks. She wished suddenly that she had her pistol on her, or even a knife, but weapons were not common party accessories, and she had left hers at her apartment. Perhaps Derek was thinking the same thing, for he pulled out his own pistol that had been concealed in his jacket, and smiled nastily at her.

"Get back on that bed. Or on the floor. I don't mind either way."

"You're not going to shoot me!" said Sheva incredulously. "Even you're not that stupid." However, she eyed the weapon as warily as she could, moving as far away from the Captain as possible without backing herself into a wall.

"Sweetheart, if I shoot you, then I'll just get my father to bribe the officials with his millions, and I'll just get a slap on the wrist. 'A terrible misunderstanding', the headlines will say. 'Two foolish military agents messing with their firearms while horribly intoxicated…the poor woman tragically dead at only 23.'" Derek's voice was soft and poisonous. He cocked his pistol and aimed it at her callously. "I'm giving you ten seconds to get on that bed and take off your dress. Ten seconds."

* * *

><p>Josh stalked into the party, his sharp eyes taking in his surroundings keenly. Though the lights were dim and the distractions many, he was able to find Ahmed within minutes. The drunk Captain offered Josh a high five which he did not accept.<p>

"Where did they go?" he asked, trying to hide the urgency in his voice.

Ahmed looked at Josh, confused. "Where did who go?" he asked blankly, taking a gulp of foaming beer.

"Sheva, you idiot!" snapped Josh uncharacteristically. He was usually a very mild-mannered sort of man, but tonight was different.

Ahmed smiled apologetically. "Sorry, man. I'm pretty drunk. There," he motioned toward the stairs. "I dunno where they went. I don't even think there are guests past the second floor, but this house is fucking huge so they could be anywhere…" He trailed off, but added reassuringly, "Don't worry so much, Josh. If Alomar can kill Albert Wesker, than I'm sure she can handle Pierce. She seemed pretty taken by him, anyway."

"Thanks for the help," said Josh roughly. He left Ahmed to his beer and headed up the staircase. At the flight of the second floor, however, two armed guards who seemed to materialize out of thin air barred his way.

"Sorry, Captain. The rest of the manor is off-limits to guests. Please do enjoy the alcohol and entertainment downstairs though," said one politely, but rather frostily.

Josh started to argue but quickly realized it was useless. "Shit!" he swore angrily, and headed back downstairs, his fists balled tightly at his sides.

* * *

><p>Sheva's mind was racing. She was not a in a favorable position – weaponless, intoxicated, and facing a trained BSAA Captain with a loaded pistol. However, she did not need ten seconds to think up a plan. She offered Derek a rather defeated, meek look. "Alright, alright. Fine. Just don't shoot me!"<p>

Derek eyed her suspiciously as she walked slowly towards the bed in the center of the room. Sheva's eyes were downcast as she neared the small, round table next to the bed, and with surprisingly alacrity she seized the porcelain vase sitting on and threw it at the Captain's face. Derek gave a snarl of rage and shot the fragile projectile out of the air with a carefully aimed bullet, but this small lapse in attention allowed Sheva to cross the room agilely and deliver a powerful somersault kick that knocked the sinewy man to the floor.

Derek's hand was still clutching the pistol, however, and though Sheva dove for it, he moved it out of her reach and used his other arm to punch her hard in the ribs. She uttered a small gasp of pain as she fell backwards, and he used the opportunity to strike her hard in the face with the flat of his pistol before tossing the weapon across the room to free the use of both of his hands. He pinioned her to the floor with his powerful grip, his muscular hands encircling her wrists like shackles, and though she tried to struggle out of his grasp, he was too strong. He laughed now, his breath hot on her face as he taunted her. "What's your next move, agent?"

Sheva lunged her head forward in an attempt to headbutt her captor, but he moved his head backward quickly and twisted one of her arms viciously until she cried out in pain. "Behave," he whispered cruelly. "Chris Redfield and Josh Stone aren't here to save you this time."

Indeed, Sheva Alomar had no savior that night. Captain Derek Pierce raped her then, raped her merciless and fiercely, ignoring pointedly her occasional cries of pain although she tried to keep her face as impassive as possible. Every attempt at resistance was met with an even more powerful rebuke. Each thrust cut Sheva like a knife – not only with physical pain but a psychological one as well. The feeling of abject helplessness led her thoughts to Kijuju and Wesker once more, and, coupled with the humiliation of rape on top of it all, she just wanted to die.

After Derek had climaxed, he did not immediately get off of his victim. Instead, he eyed her thoughtfully and then smiled, running a careless finger over her cheekbone. "Well, now, that wasn't so bad, was it, sweetheart? A pity I wasn't your Captain for basic training. We could have had eight months of fun, don't you think?"

Sheva spat in his face, a little juvenilely, and he laughed before rolling off of her. The young woman sprang to her feel and retreated like a wounded animal, but Derek made no attempt at following her. Instead, he began dressing, smoothing his rumpled jacket as he viewed himself in the mirror contently. He was watching her out of the corner of his eyes, however, and was satisfied to see that Sheva looked incredibly shaken.

"You won't get away with this!" hissed Sheva finally, putting her dress back on quickly. She felt terrible. She just wanted to get away from Derek…to retreat to her own apartment and run away from the shame that was building up inside of her. She felt cowardly, and she hated herself for it, but she realized that this was not a fight she could win. Not now.

"I will, actually," said Derek, fixing his tie. He focused his full attention on her now, and his expression was victorious. "Do you think anyone will believe that I raped you, when you pranced up here like a horny bitch so willingly? And besides, it's not the first time I've been accused of rape by some _whore_. The judges know I'm rich, and that women are filthy golddiggers. They'll never believe you, and even if they did, a few million dollars on the sly would be enough to acquit me. You, on the other hand…your reputation would be in shreds. The BSAA wouldn't even think that you're worth the trouble. You won't report me. You're too proud, and you have too much to lose."

Sheva did not respond to this, and Derek smirked before crossing the room to unlock the door. He held it open for Sheva and bowed mockingly. "Ladies first."

"Fuck you, you bastard!" snarled Sheva. She swept past him acidly, the sound of Derek's cold, humorless laughter still ringing in her ears as she stumbled down the staircase back to the party.

* * *

><p>Sheva walked down the stairs as surreptitiously as she could, hoping to leave the party unnoticed. Back downstairs, people were still having a good time, and if it weren't for the bruises on her body and the soreness between her legs, then she might have thought she had dreamed the whole situation up in some sort of a drunken haze. The bruise on her cheek was especially bad, she was sure of it, for even though she had not looked at it yet, it hurt like hell. She put one hand over her cheek to hide it from view and flitted through the crowd, shying away when she saw someone who might recognize her. However, she could not escape one pair of watchful eyes, and, halfway to the door, she heard a familiar voice that was filled with relief.<p>

"Sheva!"

She turned around and, to both her relief and dismay, saw Josh. She ran toward him and grabbed his arm, her heels clacking loudly on the marble floor. "Josh! Let's get out of here!" she said. "I'm so…exhausted."

Josh seemed a little surprised, but nodded all the same. "Of course. That's fine with me."

He allowed himself to be led outdoors, and from there he took the lead to his red convertible. He kept stealing glances at Sheva, trying to decipher the young woman's mood, but it was difficult. She did not, however, seem very happy, and the way she kept avoiding his eyes was not at all her usual behavior.

"What is wrong?" he asked pointedly, and Sheva shrugged.

"Tired," she repeated, as Josh opened the side door of the car for her. "Just…tired." Sheva had no intention of telling Josh about what Pierce had done to her. She was ashamed, and she didn't feel that she could handle the disappointment and fury of Josh at the moment. It was a complicated feeling, because she really wanted to tell someone, to sob in someone's arms and be petted and comforted, but at the same time she was not about to give Pierce the satisfaction. He had raped her to send a message to Josh, and she was not going to be the messenger.

Josh looked at her suspiciously as he started the car, but Sheva had already fallen silent and he did not press the topic.

"I don't like that dress…it is much too short," said Josh offhandedly instead, and Sheva merely shrugged, looking out the passenger-seat window.

"I didn't think you would, but then again, I also didn't think you'd see it."

They drove in silence for several minutes, until Sheva's cell phone went off loudly; in her haste to silence it, she withdrew the hand that covered her face, and the ugly bruise became quite evident, even in the near-darkness.

"What the hell happened to you!" seethed Josh furiously, but Sheva, not wanting to explain right away, chose to answer her cell phone instead.

Josh's fierce expression faded as he saw Sheva's face drain of color; the hand that held the phone to her ear trembled as she spoke finally, her voice surprisingly strong for someone so pale.

"Alright, I'll be there in a bit. Thanks."

She closed her phone and looked at Josh, and for the first time ever, Josh thought that she might cry.

"Someone broke into my apartment, and then they set it on fire. Half the apartment complex was burned down before anyone could stop it. Josh…I've lost everything."


	4. Chapter 4: Decisions

_Disclaimer: I don't own Resident Evil. Darn. :c_

_Other: Thanks for the reviews guys! I really do appreciate it! Sorry it took me so long to update - just started classes again unfortunately. The chapter didn't end up going the way I thought it would, so it's not as Chris-heavy as I had hoped, but...I hope you enjoy nonetheless. :D_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

_Everything…everything she had ever owned…all gone…_

Sheva felt a knot form in her throat as she struggled to keep from crying. She had learned long ago that crying was useless and impractical, but now the idea of giving in to such a weakness seemed rather inviting. Her head was pounding worse than ever, and her lips trembled, but after a few second she spoke, and her voice was surprisingly calm. "They want me to go to the apartment site….some questions or something…"

"I am so sorry," said Josh softly. "Of course, you can stay at my apartment until you find a new place."

"Thank you," replied the young woman, but even her friend's kind gesture could not coax a smile onto her face. Everything just felt so surreal. Surely such a horrible night could not be reality…

The drive to the apartment site was deathly quiet, which contrasted heavily to the loud noises of anger and fear that echoed near the apartment site. The air was still thick with smoke, and there was much lamenting from the people whose homes had been destroyed, and snarls from the police who were attempting to prevent people from rooting through the rubble and ash.

Sheva took a deep breath and forced herself to focus as Josh pulled into the lot. She got out of the car slowly, her eyes narrowed as she squinted through the smoky air. She spotted a few policeman after a few seconds of scanning the horizon, and she headed toward them, smoothing down her dress and hair to make her slightly more presentable in the process.

The three police who awaited her were none too impressed by the scantily-clad, obviously intoxicated woman in front of them. One of them gave a disapproving shake of his head, while the other two merely stared at her accusingly. However, with the imposing Josh standing next to her like a massive guard-dog, none of the officers chose to comment.

"You're Sheva Alomar?" barked the shortest of the three officers. He was a bald man with cold eyes, and wore an irritated expression on his face.

Sheva nodded and the officer glanced at Josh. "And who are you? Her boyfriend?"

Josh shook his head. "Just a friend, sir." He glanced at Sheva worriedly before adding, "How can we be of service?"

"I'm Officer Sekibo," said the bald man flatly. He made a show of looking through a stack of papers officiously speaking again. "As you might know, the circumstances of the fire were...very suspicious. Foul play is suspected. That being said, I have some questions for Miss Alomar, but I hardly think she's in the right state of mind to answer them," he said, his voice dripping with deprecation.

Sheva looked at him indignantly, but she could not really argue this, so she decided to say nothing. Josh shrugged.

"If you say so, sir. If you would like to arrange a time, we can go to the precinct tomorrow and answer whatever you like."

Sekibo tapped his pen against his teeth. "Tomorrow, 2 o'clock in the afternoon, sharp. Do not be late," he warned.

"Very well," replied Josh politely. "We will be going now. I hope you get this mess sorted out quickly."

"Make sure she's sober tomorrow too," said Sekibo rather snidely. One of his companions laughed, and Sheva's face reddened with embarrassment. Josh bit his tongue to keep from retorting viciously. It was not wise to goad the local police, however, as they had a nasty habit of jailing anyone who opposed them, so Josh forced himself to leave without responding, his grip tight on Sheva's arm.

"Don't worry about those bastards," he said to her shortly, when they were out of earshot. "They're overworked and underpaid, and jealous that they're wives are not as beautiful as you are. It was cruel of them to taunt you like that."

Sheva sighed. "Thanks for trying to make me feel better, Josh, but I can hardly blame them…I'd probably judge too, if it were me."

"You wouldn't," said Josh swiftly, offering his friend his arm as he watched her trip through the ash clumsily. "You're too sweet."

Sheva snorted. "Guess you don't know me as well as you think you do."

Josh studied her carefully. "I think I know you just fine," he said, helping her back into the car. "And while we are on the subject of your pretty self, might I ask once again how you got that bruise on your face?"

"Just…just a brawl…at the party…" Sheva lied weakly, and Josh did not seem convinced. "I'm really drunk," she insisted. "I can hardly remember the details…"

"Right," said Josh, disbelievingly. The BSAA Captain shot Sheva a final calculating glance before starting his car. "Let's go home, then…"

The drive to Josh's apartment was not very lengthy, and within minutes they had pulled into the parking garage and were headed up the three flights of stairs to Josh's apartment.

Josh's apartment was not very large, but sleekly and comfortably furnished. The leather sofa was chic yet inviting, and a large, flat-screen television dominated the center of the living room. Josh took off his suit jacket and withdrew his pistol from the holster, tossing both items onto the kitchen counter carelessly.

"So…tell me about the party. How was it?"

Sheva purposely kept her back to Josh, for even she knew the purpling bruises on her arm were not reasonable for any drunken brawl story. She felt tired, and her stomach felt sick, and she just wanted to forget that the night's events had ever happened. "Uhm. Could I…take a shower first?" she interjected quickly, her face still averted, and Josh nodded understandingly.

"Of course. Down the hall – the first door on your right," said Josh. "I'll bring you a fresh towel in just a minute."

"Thanks," said Sheva, hurrying down the hall. Once in the bathroom, she closed and locked the door quickly and then examined herself in the mirror carefully. The bruise on her face was worse than she thought – a horrible purple and black thing that started just below her right eye and covered a significant portion of her cheek. She touched it tentatively and winced, hoping dearly that her cheekbone was not fractured. There were bruises on her neck and arms too – not nearly as painful or large as the one on her face, but visible and ugly all the same.

A stab of pain tore through Sheva's head, and she suddenly felt incredibly nauseous once more. She collapsed at the base of the toilet and vomited tiredly – vomited until she could only heave painfully with the acrid taste of stomach fluids and alcohol lingering in her mouth. She clutched the toilet bowl with one hand and willed herself to pull it together. A knock sounded on the door after a couple of minutes, and she heard Josh's voice, tentative and worried.

"Are you alright in there, Sheva?" he asked. "I have your towel..."

Sheva's voice sounded a little hoarse as she replied, rather weakly. "I'm alright. I'll…be there in a sec."

She flushed the toilet and turned on the faucet, splashing the cool water over her face gratefully. Her head was still pounding, but her stomach felt a little less worse for wear, and with that small consolation, she opened the bathroom door a crack to accept the towel from Josh.

The shower felt rather wonderful. The water pressure was high and the water was hot, and the dazed young woman allowed her worries to fade temporarily as she basked underneath the showerhead, scrubbing furiously to rid herself of all traces of alcohol and Pierce from her. The very thought of Derek Pierce made her stomach feel sick again, and although she did not want to think about him, she forced herself to after a few minutes.

She wanted to report him. She felt obligated to: what poor young woman would be his next victim otherwise? And yet, Pierce had been right about her. She was proud, and she did not want to risk her good standing in the BSAA. She was young, and her future, at the moment, was very bright. A rape allegation could bring such glory crashing down. The trial itself could be stretched out over the course of many months, and if she did not win the case, then it would just be a mar on her pristine record. Then, there was also the clinical observation she'd have to endure…the BSAA would surely not allow her to go back into the field if they thought she might have lingering symptoms of PTSD…

Sheva sighed irritably. There would be judgment from her peers, too. Though the BSAA was an international organization, the operatives working at specific branches were, for the most part, locals of the area, and she knew that rape victims were fairly frowned upon in African society. No one, of course, condoned rape, but there always existed the small, unspoken belief that the victim must have been 'asking for it' in some way. Many of her colleagues had bore witness to her short, revealing dress and her drunken flirtations with Pierce. Her stomach lurched again uncomfortably. They would sympathize with her, but behind her back, they would talk…

And finally, there was Josh. She knew her friend would somehow throw the blame on himself, and she did not want Josh to punish himself for something that he had no control over. He would be so angry at Pierce too…Sheva relished the thought of Pierce getting a good thrashing, but she was frightened that Josh might not stop there. If Josh was goaded enough, he might kill Pierce, and then there would be real trouble. Josh's career and life would be absolutely ruined. She did not want to be responsible for that.

Sheva looked again at her injuries, frustrated. The painful bruises and her clumsy lie proved to be an issue, too. How could she hide them from Josh? He would be suspicious, and she had a sinking feeling that she would not be able to lie to him convincingly for long. She paused. She could leave…find a hotel to stay in instead…but that would be so suspicious. After a few minutes of tired brainstorming, she decided her best bet was to merely delay the inevitable. Perhaps Josh would be able to force the truth out of her eventually, but not tonight. Surely she could not handle the strain of such a discussion tonight. She already felt miserable enough…

The sore and beaten young agent turned off the shower slowly and dried herself with the towel that her friend had provided her. She then wrapped herself up in it quickly and, with a careful glance to make sure Josh was still occupied in the living room, carefully snuck out of the bathroom and darted into Josh's bedroom instead.

She felt a little guilty invading Josh's privacy, but she had few options, and besides – Josh had invited her into his room on occasion. It wasn't such a terrible thing to do, was it? The shirt that she found in Josh's dresser was much too large for her and fell all the way to her knees, but she shimmied into it regardless and then hopped into bed, making certain to pull the covers up to her chin so that nary a bruise or battered limb was exposed.

In just a few minutes, the exhausted young woman was fast asleep.

A confused Josh Stone found the bathroom to be empty twenty minutes later, and followed wet footprints to his bedroom. The perplexed look on his face turned to one of brotherly affection as he saw the sleeping girl in his bed, her face somehow so fragile in the moonlight.

"Goodnight, Sheva," he said softly, and closed the door to the bedroom behind him as he exited the room quietly.

* * *

><p>Chris Redfield awoke with a start, his breath ragged as his hand lunged for the pistol on his bedside table. A soft hand curled around his chest, and a soothing voice echoed in the darkness.<p>

"Chris, you're just having a bad dream. Snap out of it."

Jill Valentine looked at the sweaty, shaken Chris with some concern. With a deft movement she slid the pistol from the table out of Chris's reach, and with her free hand she stroked Chris's face gently, her pale eyes alert even in her tiredness.

"Fuck," breathed Chris, sitting up. The heavily muscled BSAA agent curled his fists up and hit the headboard angrily, relishing the pain that allowed him to differentiate between dream and reality. "Fuck, Jill! What the fuck is wrong with me!"

"Calm down, Chris. A lot of agents have bad dreams…"

Though her voice was light, Chris could tell that Jill was worried. She turned away from him so that he could not examine her expression, but even this gesture was enough to reveal what she was thinking. Chris looked away too, ashamed and furious at himself.

"I'll get you a glass of water," said Jill suddenly, breaking the silence. Chris smiled gratefully and collapsed back into his pillow. He rubbed his face with a clammy hand and sighed with frustration. He hated to appear weak, especially in front of Jill. Jill rarely had nightmares, and she had gone through so much worse. He wanted to be her knight, and yet she was the one who was taking care of him. What puzzled him the most was why the nightmares came so frequently now. He had always been haunted by his previous misadventures, but after the mission in Kijuju, the nightmares came almost every day. He had hoped Wesker's end would have meant an end to his nightmares, but instead the frequency of such dreams had decided to increase tenfold instead. It was all highly confusing for Chris Redfield.

While the nightmares were his primary concern, the fact that Sheva Alomar still loomed in his mind frustrated Chris too. He was not exactly sure why he felt so drawn to his old partner – he had had other partners, and none of them stuck out in his mind as much as Sheva did. Perhaps it was because he finally felt he was getting older, and the idea of a supple, pretty, and ultimately youthful, thing in his bed was incredibly appealing. He loved the shape of her eyes and the sway of her hips, and the idea of the sexy, young woman on her knees before him could arouse him fiercely. And it wasn't just the idea of ridiculous, hot sex…Sheva had an innocence about her that could only be attributed to her youth and lack of experience. It was a very endearing quality, and it instilled in him a desire to protect her. However, he was a realistic man, and he knew that this fantasy was neither plausible nor sensible. Sheva was so young, and their age difference would surely drive a gap between them. Then, there was also the fact that they had known each other for such a short amount of time, and she lived so far away….

Jill had been the obvious choice for so many reasons. He had been friends and partners with her for a long time, and he loved her in so many ways. She was beautiful, close to him in age, and really understood him. He admired her intelligence and fearlessness and determination, and knew her to be dependable and resourceful, yet caring. There really wasn't more he could want in a woman, and for this reason he felt incredibly guilty every time he happened to fantasize fucking Sheva while he was in bed with Jill. It didn't happen often, but the thought had crossed his mind before, and he hated himself for it. Jill deserved a strong, loving man in her life, and he was determined to become that man. He just needed to get Wesker and Sheva out of his mind…

"Here, sweetheart." The term of endearment still sounded a little foreign coming from Jill Valentine, but Chris smiled at her as he accepted the opaque, plastic cup. He finished the water in a few quick gulps and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He placed the cup carefully on the nightstand and rolled over in bed to watch Jill slip off her robe and return to bed.

"You're really beautiful," he said softly, reaching out a hand to stroke her thigh.

"Oh, Chris, stop that! It's two in the morning…"

"You're still pretty, even at two in the morning," affirmed Chris, pulling her to him gently. His lips caressed her throat, and she arched her neck slightly to allow him better access, though she chastised him while doing so.

"We should really get back to bed…the doctor said I should be getting as much sleep as I can…."

"Well…if you think you can't handle it…" Chris's voice was teasing, and Jill rose to the challenge, her eyes glinting mischievously in the dim moonlight.

"Oh, I can handle it, Chris, if this is how you want to play." In a lightning fast movement she slid from his embrace and pinned him to the bed, her body pressed close against his. She rubbed teasingly against him, feeling him grow hard. "But, can you handle me?"

"I think I'll give it a shot," replied Chris hoarsely, reaching her face to kiss her roughly. Suddenly, his problems did not seem so pressing, and he allowed them to melt away as he embraced the woman he loved.


	5. Chapter 5: A Mind Made Up

_Disclaimer: I do not own these amazing characters. :(_

_Other: Thanks for being patient with me, guys! I know it's been a while. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thanks again for all the comments and such! :3_

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><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

Sheva awoke the next morning groggily, shivering slightly as her hand fumbled to retrieve the blankets that she must have kicked off sometime during the night. She buried her face in them cozily when she found them, trying to ignore the nauseous feeling in the pit of her stomach. The sound of the shower running in the next room was at first unusual to her, and then she remembered she was in Josh's home, and that she had no home anymore.

The shower turned off abruptly, but Sheva barely noticed as she shifted to rest on her side, her expression slightly vacant as she planned out the day ahead. Yesterday, she had felt helpless and confused, but today, she felt that she was in control again. She had been thinking ever since the previous night about what to do, and she had reached the conclusion that one course of action would solve most of her problems quite nicely. It was not the most ideal of resolutions, but it would suffice…

A soft tapping could be heard at the door, and Sheva quickly pulled the blankets up to her neck again before answering. "Come in!"

Josh entered the room, clad in a T-shirt and shorts. Sheva smiled at him, but to her surprise, Josh did not return the smile.

"What's wrong?" asked Sheva, puzzled. "Oh! I'm sorry that I sort of just…claimed the bed last night. I was just so tired…"

Josh shook his head, his jaw stiff. "No, it's not that. Anything I have is yours. You needn't even ask. It's…" Josh hesitated. "Sheva, I came in here earlier, to get some fresh clothes to wear. I knocked, but you were still asleep, so I figured I could just sneak in. When I came in, I noticed that you had kicked off all your blankets. I wanted to cover you back up, so you wouldn't catch the flu, and then…"

"Oh, damn," interjected Sheva unhappily.

"I saw all those bruises, Sheva. I even saw the ones on your...legs. I didn't mean to look, and I don't mean to pry, but...Sheva, people don't get bruises up there by accident, or in drunken brawls. You have to tell me what happened last night, Sheva. I need to know," Josh pleaded, sitting at the foot of the bed.

"You haven't guessed?" asked Sheva, a little flatly.

"You have to tell me, because I don't want to kill someone if I'm only going off guesses," replied Josh dangerously.

Sheva sat up and sighed. "Don't kill anyone, Josh. I knew you would react like this, which is why I didn't want to tell you. Please, promise me that you won't go after Pierce. It's what he wants and I don't want you to get in trouble."

"So…Pierce..?" Josh swallowed, his breathing harsh.

"Yes. Pierce got me all nice and drunk yesterday, and he raped me. I tried to fight him off, Josh, but you saw how drunk I was. Look, I can't risk my reputation by making accusations that won't even stick. I hate that bastard, but I can't report him. It won't do any good, so please don't suggest it."

"Oh, I agree," replied Josh. "That fucking bastard gets away with everything. I'll kill him, though," he spat angrily. "Does he think he can get away with raping you when I'm here? I would beat the shit out of any man who even looked at you the wrong way – much less rape you!"

"He's goading you!" said Sheva, exasperated. "He wants you to go after him, don't you see? Then he's going to pin an attempted murder charge on you, and you'll get locked up for years and he'll laugh in your face!"

"You are like a sister to me," said Josh fiercely. "If anyone raped a sister of mine, I would shoot him, with no regrets."

"Let me deal with this, please! I can handle myself, Josh!" said Sheva adamantly.

"Like you handled yourself last night?" retorted Josh harshly. He realized that this was not the thing to say just a few seconds later – Sheva's expression had crumpled and she turned away from him, her eyes blinking rapidly. The BSAA Captain sighed and put a comfortingly arm around his friend, who flinched but did not pull away. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to say that. I know this is all very hard for you." He paused. "How have you been holding up?"

Sheva bit her lip. "Alright," she said finally. "It was really awful, but I'll be okay. It's just…I feel really ashamed of this. I'm a BSAA agent, for God's sake! How could I let something like this happen to me?" she said bitterly.

"You know it's not your fault," said Josh firmly. "Don't blame yourself. Hurting you was Pierce's intention all along. It had nothing to do with the decisions you made."

"I didn't have to accept all those drinks," said Sheva miserably.

Josh snorted. "If you hadn't, I'm sure he would have drugged you instead. If anything, I blame myself. You asked me if I thought you should go to that party…I said yes…"

"You couldn't have known something like this would happen!" protested Sheva.

"No," agreed Josh tersely. "I did know that Pierce was an immoral bastard, though. I should have guessed he would be up to something."

The pair fell into a brooding silence. Josh stroked Sheva's hair comfortingly as she leaned against his shoulder, her expression inscrutable.

"What are you going to do, then?" asked Josh finally. "You know Pierce is transferring to the West Africa division, right? Do you think you'll be able to handle seeing him every day?"

"I won't be here for much longer," said Sheva shortly. "I was offered a mission yesterday. I'm going to accept it."

If this news surprised Josh, he did not let it show. "Tell me about it," he said softly.

"It's an undercover mission in the U.S., and it's fairly long-term. It's part of the reason why I can't afford to press charges against Pierce – I'd have to stay around for the trial, and if I wait too long they'll find someone else. Before…" she swallowed painfully, "Before the fire and the…rape, I had a lot of reasons to reject the proffered mission. You know I love it here. It's my home, and these are my people. But if Pierce is going to be here, I couldn't bear to stay at this branch anyway. This is the best option."

Josh leaned against the headboard of the bed. "Hm. If you're insistent on keeping this whole thing quiet, then I suppose that isn't a bad idea. But still, I think you should report that arrogant asshole to his superiors, at least. He might get decommissioned…"

"And how about you?" pressed Sheva, ignoring Josh's latter words. "Will you be able to handle seeing Pierce every day? I'm begging you, Josh – don't do anything stupid. I don't want you to get hurt."

Josh did not reply, but under Sheva's fierce glare he conceded. "I will try my best, Sheva. I can't make any promises. I could kill him for doing that to you…"

"Don't, please."

"We'll see," said Josh heavily. "You should start getting ready," he added suddenly. "Don't forget that they want to see you at the precinct today for some questions."

"Oh, right! But...I don't have any clothes," said Sheva, a bit sheepishly, and Josh finally managed a grin.

"Well, that is a problem. I'll go pick up something for you, and then we'll head out, alright?"

Sheva smiled at her friend gratefully. "Thanks, Josh."

Josh returned the smile, but his expression was a little sad as he replied.

"Anything for you, Sheva."

* * *

><p>"I'll have a Guinness, and my friend will have an...appletini?" Chris Redfield grinned as he glanced from the bartender to his friend, Leon S. Kennedy. The handsome, American Secret Service agent gave Chris a withering look.<p>

"Make that a Black Velvet," corrected Leon, and Chris laughed.

"Still a little girly, don't you think?"

"If you confuse girly with classy, then maybe," retorted Leon with a snort.

Chris shrugged his massive shoulders. "Just sayin', Jill orders manlier drinks than you do…"

"Jackass."

"Anytime, man."

A doe-eyed blonde batted her eyelashes at Leon and tossed her head flirtatiously as she caught his eye from across the bar, and he smirked slightly before returning his attention to Chris. "So, what did you want to talk to me about? Going to try and coax me to join the BSAA again?"

Chris shook his head. "Nope. I know a lost cause when I see one. No…it's something else." He paused and then fished into his pocket to withdraw a small, hinged box. He opened it carefully to reveal an intricate diamond ring that glittered brilliantly even under the dim bar lights.

Leon feigned a flattered gasp. "Oh, Chris, I didn't know you felt that way about me! I don't know what to say…"

"Oh, fuck you," replied Chris good-naturedly. "For Jill, of course. I think I'm going to propose to her."

Leon took the box from Chris and inspected the ring briefly. "Pretty big stone. Must have run you a small fortune."

"It's worth it," affirmed Chris, and Leon offered his friend a genuine smile.

"Well, congratulations! That's really…something. I always thought you two might end up together. Always…running around with each other, Wesker-hunting…" he grinned. "She's very good-looking too, so it'll make the sting of not being able to bang another chick ever again less painful."

"That's actually an issue I wanted to discuss with you," said Chris slowly, and Leon gave him a look of disbelief.

"What do you mean? You're not really having something on the side, are you? Because if you are, then I'm actually not sure if marriage is the right way to go," he said, his voice suddenly considerably more serious.

"Oh, no! I mean, I'm not having sex with anyone else, or even seeing anyone else," admitted Chris. "It's just…someone has been on my mind lately. A lot. I can't stop thinking about her!"

"Who?" asked Leon curiously, taking a sip of his drink. "I'm intrigued."

Chris sighed and finished off his beer in a few quick gulps before speaking. "Sheva. Sheva Alomar – my partner back in Kijuju? God, Leon, I don't know what's wrong with me! Jill is everything that I could ever want, but then I think about Sheva, and I start doubting myself…."

"Sheva? Hm," replied Leon thoughtfully. "Well, do you just…fantasize about her, then? I mean, I've seen pictures – she is pretty hot."

"Yeah, sometimes…" trailed Chris miserably, and Leon shrugged.

"Oh, come on, Chris. That's nothing to worry about. She's a sexy little thing and you think about her sometimes. So what? You'll never have the chance to date her, and you probably won't see much of her anymore ever again, to be honest. She's stationed at the West Africa branch, isn't she? So I don't think it's anything to start feeling guilty about. I mean…you love Jill, don't you?" asked Leon, and Chris nodded.

"Of course I love her! I would die for her!"

"Well, there you go," said Leon, polishing off his own drink. "I think every guy tries to dissuade himself out of marriage when that time comes. I'm not sure if I'm a marrying man myself, but you and Jill…I think you guys are great together," he said sincerely.

"Thanks," said Chris, getting to his feet. "I needed that."

"Anytime!" returned Leon easily. "Now, if you don't mind – there's a little blonde over there who's been trying to get my attention the whole evening. Surely I can't let all her efforts go to waste." He grinned. "Have a good night, Chris."

"'Night," replied the BSAA agent, nodding to his companion. He watched Leon saunter off, and then headed outside to catch a taxi back to the apartment that he and Jill shared. Even after Leon's supportive words, Chris Redfield still felt guilty. What he hadn't told Leon was that he thought he loved Sheva Alomar too.

* * *

><p>The television was blaring cheerfully, but Sheva's mind was elsewhere as she rested on Josh's couch, her small body curled up in a rather feline position. Josh was rattling about in the kitchen in search of a beer, so Sheva allowed her thoughts to drift to the day's earlier events.<p>

The police inquiry had gone quite poorly. The police officers had kept her waiting for over an hour, and when they finally called her in for questioning, they were both terribly organized and unnecessarily rude. She had been frustrated to discover that they had few leads to go on, for the fire had left little evidence of DNA or fingerprints. Nevertheless, the officers had found it necessary to keep her at the precinct for hours, and it had been nightfall before she was let go, with no advancements made in the investigation whatsoever. Josh had not been unaware of her foul mood by this time, and he had chivalrously suggested that he cook dinner for the pair of them while she rested.

"Having a good daydream?"

"Mmph. Not really."

Sheva glanced up at Josh and shifted her legs so that he could sit next to her. Josh offered her a sip of his beer, which she declined hastily, and he laughed before offering her his phone instead.

"You should make that call. Tell the Director that you're accepting that mission."

Sheva took the phone rather reluctantly. Though she knew that there existed a plethora of reasons why she needed to accept the Director's offer, the thought of leaving Africa was still daunting. The exhilaration that the new mission would provide her would surely eradicate any painful, lingering thoughts of Albert Wesker and Derek Pierce, and the operation itself would be an important stepping stone for her career. Yet, the main reason why she wanted to accept the mission was also what was causing her so much doubt: Chris Redfield.

With Atlanta just a short plane ride away from New York City, she would be able to see Chris Redfield every month if she liked. She knew that she would be tempted to – she loved him, as stupid as she felt admitting it. And yet, she was no fool – she knew that enticing herself with something that she could never, ever have would merely cause her a lot of unnecessary grief and misery. However, she was afraid that she would not be able to resist opening Pandora's Box, not when someone like Chris was the prize.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" interrupted Josh, smiling at his friend's ambivalence.

The young BSAA agent uttered a soft, defeated sigh and began dialing Director Damien Matthews' number.


	6. Chapter 6: Goodbye

_Disclaimer: Not my characters, just my story (:_

_Other: Thanks for the reviews, everyone! You're all amazing! Hope you enjoy this chapter! I'm actually halfway done with the next, so hopefully it won't be such a long wait next time! _

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><p><strong>Chapter Six<strong>

Dr. Michael Forrest waited in the lobby of Biochort CEO Jacob York's office impatiently. Every so often, the golden-haired scientist would heave an irritated sigh and glance at his Rolex, and the pretty secretary behind the desk would shoot him a sheepish, apologetic look. This ritual had gone on for over an hour, and yet Dr. Forrest could not bring himself to launch any complaints aloud. No one dared to complain about Jacob York – certainly not anyone who valued his career.

So, Michael waited. The scientist was in his late-thirties and unusually good-looking, with vivid green eyes, high cheekbones, and a chiseled jaw. Years of competitive swimming had supplied him with a slim, yet defined physique, and his occupation as a lead scientist at Biochort had provided him with the millions evident in his immaculately stylish clothing. His looks were only exceeded by his intelligence: he had earned his doctorate degree at an esteemed university in only three years, and had immediately been hired by Biochort upon graduation, where he had climbed to a senior position in only ten years. Though highly-respected by his colleagues, he was also disliked by most, for behind the charming green eyes resided an arrogant man whose aims were purely selfish and means were often cruel.

Michael sighed irritably once more, and as if on cue, Jacob York strolled from his office into the lobby jauntily.

"Michael, come in. Sorry I kept you waiting," said York, shrugging rather carelessly. Michael did not allow his impatience to show as he shook the hand of his employer. Though he did not particularly like York, he admired the man's ambition and keen business intelligence greatly, and made an effort to reciprocate the friendliness that York constantly bestowed upon him.

"It's fine – I barely noticed," he lied charmingly, following York into the impressive, expansive office that overlooked the bustling streets of metropolitan Atlanta.

York indicated to the scientist that he should take a seat, and Michael obliged readily, sinking into a stiff, steel-backed chair. The emerald-eyed Adonis eyed York carefully. York was not handsome, but he was tall, imposing, and charismatic. York passed Michael a manila folder and nodded to him, settling into his own chair comfortably.

"So, it's been confirmed. This is the one the BSAA are sending after us. I was afraid my contact in the BSAA would let me down, but he pulled through in the end. And thank God for that," said York, shaking his head. "Saves me a heap of time and effort."

Michael took the folder and opened it, scanning the document within briefly. "Sheva Alomar, hm?" He eyed the agent's profile again. "She's so young. The BSAA must not think we're a very big threat if they were okay with sending this one after us. Not that I'm complaining," he added.

York shrugged his heavy shoulders. "I was told not to underestimate her. Nevertheless, she shouldn't give us problems. I'm assigning her to your lab," he detailed shortly, and Michael frowned.

"Seriously? My lab? Wouldn't it be easier just to shove her into one of those useless labs on the third flood and be done with her?"

York grinned. "You'll be keeping an eye on her for me, Michael. You know how important it is to keep the BSAA off our backs. You're one of the few men I trust here, because you have just as much invested in this project as I do. Befriend her, find out what she knows, and make sure she stays out of our way for the next few months. If she finds even a shred of evidence linking us to bioterrorist weaponry, the BSAA will launch a full-scale investigation, and we will certainly not be able to evade _that_. A girl though – I think we can handle her," said York with some satisfaction.

"And what happens if she does find something out?" questioned Michael carefully, and York shrugged.

"She won't, but if she does…well, Atlanta does have a lot of crime, doesn't it? I can arrange for the pretty little thing to have an "accident." I'd rather not, though. The BSAA would get suspicious, and probably send someone else on us. We're not killing her unless we have to."

"That's too bad," said Michael softly, and York raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Bloodthirsty young man, aren't you?" he chortled, and it was Michael's turn to shrug.

"I hate the BSAA. Their regulations are extreme, and they make it very hard to get a hold of a lot of materials necessary for more classified scientific research. They're hindering advancements!" he seethed angrily. "Those idiot knuckle-heads are just afraid of what they don't understand. Yeah, I personally wouldn't mind strangling their little agent and calling it an accident."

"Well, please don't do that," said York, slightly amused. "Just remember that you'll be a very rich man and renowned scientist if we pull this project off. We can't afford any mistakes, so you'll have to stave off your violent urges for the time being. Don't worry though, we'll be causing the BSAA a heap of grief soon enough."

Michael said nothing, so York pressed onwards, his voice chipper. "So, you'll have to give the young lady a video interview as a formality. Offer her the job a few days after. She can start next week, if she wants. It's a technician's job really – just have her run PCRs and ELISAs and silly, useless things like that. Make sure to be nice and put her at ease, and she won't suspect that anything is amiss here."

"Right," said Michael reluctantly, and York beamed at him.

"You can leave now, Michael. Just remember – don't screw this up. I can't abide failure."

York's tone was genial, but Michael did not take these words lightly. Jacob York was not a man that could be taken lightly.

* * *

><p>The week sped by quickly for Sheva. Besides all manner of release forms and documents that required her signature, she also had to clear out the tiny corner that the BSAA had deemed an office space, and attend hasty training sessions that informed her how to worm her way out of sticky situations that might arise during an undercover mission.<p>

She was always wary of running into Pierce on these days, but she had luckily seemed to evade him every day. While she did not fear him, the very thought of him caused her to be seized with fury and shame, and therefore she chose to avoid him whenever possible. Josh, who often accompanied her to BSAA West Africa headquarters for some reason or another, seemed to have the opposite mindset: he stalked the corridors of the building like a lion, hoping dearly that he might have a chance to have a violent confrontation with his nemesis, and yet to his extreme disappointment, Pierce was never to be found.

Josh was her constant companion these days, and she felt closer to him than ever. While he had always kept an eye out for her, she could talk to him so easily now, from frivolous topics to even the most serious of issues. They often cooked dinner together in the evenings and would reminisce and laugh with each other until the night was pitch black and Sheva could barely keep her eyes open from tiredness. She always delayed sleeping for as long as she could, for the evil dreams that haunted her came as frequently as ever, and now a new character, one that crushed her body and pinioned her arms and forced himself on her, melded himself into her nightmares too. And yet, even when she awoke from these vivid, painful dreams, Josh would be there with strong, protective arms and soothing words, and suddenly her fears would not seem so terrible.

It was after one such nightmare that Sheva lay awake, her breathing still agitated and her heart pounding in her ears. She knew the gentle hand that caressed her arm to be Josh's, and though his presence was comforting, she still felt incredibly shamed when he had to find her like this. She just felt so…weak.

After a few moments she sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Well, I can't go back to sleep now," she said shortly. "I'm going to finish packing the rest of my things, and then maybe I'll be tired again."

Josh eyed her carefully as she got up and stretched, her slim waist and full hips casting an alluring shadow in the moonlight. His eyes unconsciously lingered on her attractive physique before flickering to her face, and he asked finally, "Don't you think that you should see a doctor, Sheva? A psychiatrist? These dreams are a lot worse than I thought."

Sheva looked at him almost defensively. "You know I can't, Josh. Not now! They'd pull this mission from me if they got wind of these...dreams. I'm fully capable!" she added, plopping down in front of her new luggage. She began folding a few shirts distractedly, but her hands trembled as she did so.

Josh stood up and switched on the light, bathing the pair of them in a flood of brightness. Striding across the room, he, too, took a seat beside Sheva's new things, and ignored pointedly her unwillingness to talk on the subject. "So, you don't think that this will cut into your abilities at all? You don't think getting three hours of sleep every night will decrease your response time?" he said skeptically.

"No," lied Sheva irritably, tossing her neatly folded clothes into the open luggage case rather carelessly.

"You know, I'm only asking because I care about you," said Josh softly. "If you get hurt, and I know I could have done something…"

"Don't you think I've thought of this already!" snapped Sheva, and Josh appeared taken aback by her outburst. The fact of the matter was, she too, was worried about how her nightmares might affect her performance as a lone operative. Hearing the concern voiced by another was even worse. "I swear I'll be fine. I've seen a lot of shitty, awful things in my lifetime. I'll get over this, and I'll be _fine_. Besides," she added swiftly, "Chris Redfield has nightmares too, and he's the best agent the BSAA has!"

Josh's eyes narrowed. "What does Chris have to do with this? And besides, how do you know Chris isn't getting help? He's probably seeing a psychiatrist, like you should be doing!"

"He's not," protested Sheva. "He told me he isn't!"

Josh snorted. "Don't tell me this is why you're refusing to go to the doctor, Sheva! It's not weak to go see someone for help! Just because Chris is being stupid and doing nothing about his problems doesn't mean you should follow his lead!"

"Chris isn't stupid!" said Sheva heatedly. "_He_ understands why I don't want to go a psychiatrist! Why can't you?"

Josh looked at the defiant young woman in disbelief, and realization hit him suddenly and painfully. "Your old partner has a very strong influence on you, doesn't he?" he said, his voice surprisingly derisive, and Sheva's face flushed with embarrassment.

"He was my partner, and he has nightmares too. You…don't know what it's like!" she said angrily. She was fully aware of how immature she sounded, but in her anger she did not care.

"I don't know what it's like? I've seen you thrashing and crying out in your sleep almost every night this week, Sheva. But of course, _Chris _must know better," he sneered, and Sheva jumped to her feet, her eyes blazing.

"Then report me! Tell my superior that I have PTSD! Take this mission away from me so I can see Pierce every _fucking_ day! If that's what you want, then do it!"

"You know I'm not going to do that," said Josh, lowering his voice with some difficulty. "I-I just want you to be safe, Sheva. You must know that."

There was a substantial pause. Sheva looked away from Josh as she replied, her voice calmer now too, but still laced with frustration and defiance. "Yes, I know. I promise I'll be careful. Thank you for your concern."

She turned away from him, dismissive, and Josh's gaze lingered on her turned back. He was still worried about Sheva, but he had felt the sting of a new, unsettling feeling during their brief, yet heated argument: jealousy.

* * *

><p>The day following the unpleasant altercation was Sheva's final day in Africa before her departure to America. While neither Sheva nor Josh had forgotten about their vicious exchanges, both had apparently decided to drop the issue for friendship's sake. Still, the air about them remained unusually tense, and so when Sheva announced that she was heading to BSAA headquarters to retrieve the last of her things and turn in her dog tags, Josh merely nodded briefly and continued drinking his coffee instead of offering to accompany her, as was his usual habit.<p>

In all honesty, Sheva regretted losing her temper with Josh the night before. He was her best friend, and the idea of leaving him for such a long time on such a bitter note pained her greatly. Having her weakness pointed out to her so blatantly was something she could not bear, however, and the idea that she might be unfit for duty was something that plagued her too. She was hoping that the new mission would distract her from any nightmares she might have, and yet…what if they persisted? If she were to be discharged from the BSAA, what would she have left?

Upon reaching headquarters, she made her way up to the Director's office. She waited outside the door respectfully as she heard Matthews' voice on the telephone, discussing some sort of new training program that the BSAA was wont to implement, but after a minute of silence she offered a knock on the door, to which Matthews' voice responded quite swiftly. "Come on in!"

"Director," she said, nodding to her superior courteously as she swept into the room, and Damien Matthews beamed at her.

"Ah, here she is. Last day, huh?" he said, his eyes sweeping over her face. "Are you glad to be leaving us, then?" he added teasingly.

Sheva shrugged. "A mixture of feelings, sir. A nice change of scene, maybe, but this place has been my home for a while. Of course I'll miss it."

From her neck, she withdrew her dog tags and placed them gently on his desk. As an undercover agent, she could not have any identification linking her to the BSAA. Parting with the small metal objects was unusually wrenching, and she looked at them a little sadly before Matthews interrupted.

"Well, no worries. I'm sure you'll be back with us soon enough, hm? Stay vigilant, and do your job, but…" The ex-agent trailed off and then winked at her. "I personally think Biochort is doing no wrong, so don't stress yourself too much, alright?"

Sheva offered the Director a vacant smile. "I'll keep that in mind, sir."

Matthews nodded. "Well, I think we're done here. Just remember to call the number I provided whenever you get to Atlanta. Our contact there will provide you with the weapons you'll be receiving for the operation. They'll be different models than the ones you're used to using, since we aren't going to give you BSAA-issued firearms, but you'll be fine, I'm sure. Oh!" he added, "Remember, too, that you're to give me a monthly report on the first of every month. I'm your contact with HQ, so if you ever need help, just let me know."

"Right," said Sheva, and Matthews offered her a final smile.

"Well, then, good luck, Agent Alomar. I look forward to hearing from you."

"Thank you, sir," said Sheva distractedly. She had heard all of this before, and her mind was lingering instead on how she might make amends with Josh before her afternoon departure. She turned on heel and headed down the staircase to the gym facilities to retrieve the last of her things rather mechanically, still lost in thought.

* * *

><p>Nothing of considerable importance was in the metal gym locker that housed the last of Sheva's things, and the agent ended up tossing out most of the random assortment of objects out of convenience. The only thing she decided on keeping was the arm bracelet she had worn during her mission in Kijuju, which she must have left in her locker accidentally after some post-mission workout session. Though worn at the edges, it was nevertheless a rather sentimental piece to her, and she was teasing it back onto her arm when a painfully familiar voice echoed in the locker room.<p>

"All alone again, sweetheart? I thought you would have learned your lesson…"

"Pierce," hissed Sheva through gritted teeth. She glanced at the doorway to see Pierce's powerful body framed there, his bare chest dripping with sweat after hours of training. The shamelessly arrogant man offered her a predatory smile which she did not return.

"Fuck off," she said loudly, slamming her now-empty locker shut.

Pierce laughed and strode toward her, and Sheva stood her ground brazenly. "I thought you'd be happier to see me," he purred, circling her, and Sheva narrowed her eyes hatefully. His presence left her feeling a bit nauseous, and she was glad that her voice did not waver in her reply, disgusted though she was.

"I'm not afraid of you, Pierce, so you can stop with your intimidation techniques. Do you think I'd be scared of a man who needed to get a girl blind-drunk before he could overpower her?" she spat viciously. "I don't have time for this."

She moved to sweep past him, but Pierce grabbed her arm roughly. "Now just a minute there, sweetheart—!"

Sheva uttered a catlike hiss and yanked her arm from him, and with her other arm delivered a powerful blow to Pierce's jaw. The insolent confidence that usually lingered on Pierce's face fell temporarily, and was replaced instead with one of stunned surprise as the BSAA Captain stumbled backward several paces painfully.

"I told you to fuck off," breathed Sheva fiercely, and Pierce's eyes glittered with a new malice as he regained his composure.

"You little bitch!" he snarled, and lunged for her, but Sheva danced out of his reach deftly.

"Not so easy now, is it?" asked Sheva challengingly, and Pierce uttered a strangled growl.

"I can make it easy," he swore, and his hand flew to his holster. Sheva ducked behind the lockers, slightly bewildered that any man would be audacious enough to attempt an armed assault on a fellow operative at headquarters, but poised and ready to wrestle the weapon away from Pierce nonetheless. Before Pierce had time to draw his weapon, however, the sound of another gun being cocked echoed in the room, and both Sheva and Pierce glanced up distractedly to find the source of the noise.

The source, over six feet tall and strongly built, was hard to miss. "Take out your gun, and I'll fucking shoot you," snarled Josh, training his Beretta on Pierce's head. His face was contorted with rage, and after a few tense seconds, Pierce's hand fell reluctantly from his holster.

"Two against one. That's hardly fair," Pierce managed to sneer, though his usual poise was lost as he eyed Josh's drawn weapon warily.

"Fair like it was when you raped Sheva, right?" retorted Josh, his eyes emblazoned with hatred, and Pierce managed a short laugh.

"We were just having fun," he said coolly, and Josh's fingers flexed on the trigger of his gun dangerously.

"Get the fuck out of here, Pierce. If you ever cause either of us trouble again, I swear I'll kill you!"

Pierce hesitated before slinking past Josh, his usual confidence returning to him only when he had placed several meters between himself and his antagonists. "You better watch your back, Josh!" he threatened. "You and your bitch! You'll both regret this!"

Josh smiled wolfishly at Pierce. "We'll see about that."

Pierce spat on the floor and turned to leave, and Josh watched the man's retreat with some relish. "I swear I'm going to get that son-of-a-bitch decommissioned by the end of this year," growled Josh.

"Thank you for coming," said Sheva, looking up at Josh, and he gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"Well, to be fair, my intention was to find you here to apologize, but then I heard the ruckus, and I couldn't help myself," he said, shrugging. "I hope you don't mind. You were doing quite alright yourself, but when I saw him reach for that gun, I didn't want to take any chances."

"Yes – on the whole 'apology' note," interjected Sheva swiftly, swallowing hard. "I'm sorry about…last night. However I felt, I really had no right to yell at you…" Her voice trailed and she looked away, embarrassed, but Josh placed a gentle hand under chin and tilted her head so that their eyes locked.

"I'm sorry too, Sheva," he said softly. He let his hand drop after a few seconds and then gestured towards the door. "Now, if you're done with your business here, let's get out of here. I think I still have time to treat you to a last lunch before your flight."

Josh had already turned and was halfway to the door when Sheva put a restraining hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Josh?"

Josh turned around. "What is it?" he asked, bemused.

"I'm really going to miss you."

Sheva was not exactly sure why she felt such a strong urge to tell Josh this, but suddenly the idea of not seeing him for a year – possibly longer – caused her heart to ache painfully. Josh's expression softened, and he put an arm around Sheva's shoulders affectionately, pulling her close to him.

"I'm going to miss you too."

* * *

><p>Lunch was a pleasant affair, devoid of any tearful outbursts, but somehow rather emotional all the same. There was a small competition for the check, though Josh finally conceded to Sheva's winsome pout in the end, and all too soon they were headed to the airport.<p>

Josh was genuinely surprised at the extent in which Sheva's departure was affecting him. He had said goodbye to numerous friends over the course of his years, sometimes permanent goodbyes intoned at the head of caskets and in eulogies, so the fact that his heart was so pained over such a temporary goodbye filled him with a great deal of frustration.

Of course, he knew the reason why he felt this way – it was obvious, and yet he was reluctant to admit the reason even to himself. The fact that a mere touch from Sheva sent shivers of desire up his spine made it quite evident that he had fallen for her at some point in the tumultuous, past few weeks, and yet the timing of such attraction could not have been worse. A little over a week ago, he had been able to resist Sheva's flirtations dutifully, and now…well, now he was not so sure if he possessed the willpower anymore.

Still, though, he had no intention of revealing his newfound feelings to her. It would be a cruel thing to do, and he did not want Sheva's mind to be distracted by anything else, troubled as she was already. Besides, a small, jealous part of him had not forgotten the look on Sheva's face when she had mentioned Chris Redfield's name during their argument. He was a proud creature, and was not about to admit his love to a girl who already had feelings for another.

The traffic around the airport was awful, and Sheva offered Josh an apologetic smile that brought him back to reality. "You can just drop me off here," insisted Sheva. "There's no way you'll be able to get out of here easily if you park…"

"Don't be silly," replied Josh reprovingly. "This is the last time I'll be seeing you for a year. I don't mind a bit of traffic."

It was half an hour later before they entered the airport, and another half hour before Sheva had checked-in her bags. Their conversation was rather lighthearted and teasing until the security checkpoint came into view, and then a more solemn air fell between them uncomfortably.

"Well, I suppose this is it," said Josh awkwardly, and Sheva surprised him with a fierce embrace that caused his heart to wrench longingly. He returned the hug and then, to mask the emotions that threatened to show on his face, pushed a poorly wrapped parcel into Sheva's hands quickly.

"A gift to remember me by," said Josh smiling lightly. "I know you won't really be able to keep in contact with me much, so I thought I'd get you something. You can open it later," he added, as Sheva turned the parcel in her hands curiously.

"You shouldn't have! But thank you," replied Sheva, and she stood on her tiptoe to kiss him swiftly on the cheek. "You know I'll never forget you," she said, nudging him playfully. "I'm offended you'd even suggest it."

Josh could only muster a half-smile at this point, for by this time he was on the verge of spilling his feelings out to Sheva pathetically, and he refused to allow this to happen. "You should go on, before you're late for your flight," he said softly, gesturing toward the awaiting security guard, and Sheva nodded at him reluctantly.

"Take care, Josh!" she said finally, and, with one last glance behind her, headed through the security checkpoint.

Josh watched Sheva go until he could no longer see her anymore, and then headed back to his car. To any casual onlooker, BSAA Captain Josh Stone looked perfectly confident and at-ease, but in truth, he had rarely felt worse in all his life.


	7. Chapter 7: Trouble

_Disclaimer: I don't own these characters._

_Additional note: I am so sorry for the lateness, guys. Thanks for being patient with me. This isn't really the most exciting chapter, but it's necessary all the same...and things will really start heating up in the next chapter. ;3 Enjoy! Reviews and constructive comments are always greatly appreciated too!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seven<strong>

When Sheva finally arrived in Atlanta, Georgia, it was hours past midnight and drizzling unpleasantly. The young woman was experiencing the insufferable combination of restlessness and exhaustion, and this feeling was perhaps the reason why she dissuaded herself from figuring out the Atlanta transit system, opting for a simple and familiar taxi cab instead. The bright lights of Atlanta glittered in the raindrops that darted down the windows of her cab, and she surveyed the city around her with tired interest as the taxi driver made his way to her hotel.

The hotel that the BSAA had booked her was supremely average: clean and functional, but sparing in most other aspects. Compared to fifteen hours in a cramped airplane, however, it was heaven, and Sheva toss her bags onto her bed in careless relief as she entered her room. After assuring that the door to her room was locked and bolted, she shed her clothes easily and took a quick, hot shower that effectively allayed much of her tension.

Upon exiting the bath, a wet-haired Sheva allowed herself to sink into the soft, neatly-made bed. She did not immediately bother with clothes, appreciating instead the cool breath of frigid air conditioning on her bare skin. From the nightstand by the bed, she retrieved the gold bracelet that had been Josh's gift to her. She put the bracelet on her arm and ran a finger across the delicate, prowling lioness that was etched on the intricate gold piece. Staring at the bracelet made Sheva miss Josh terribly, and she forced herself to push him from her mind as she rose from the bed to look out the window of her twelfth-story hotel room.

Though it was very late at night, Atlanta was still bustling. Bright lights flashed from the cars and buses below, and the sound of passing vehicles could be heard from even so far up. While this noise might have annoyed some hotel guests, it was oddly comforting to Sheva. It somehow made her feel less alone in the large, foreign city, and she quickly pushed aside the curtains so that light from nearby skyscrapers danced over her naked body. She stared out the window in quiet contemplation for several minutes before returning to bed somewhat reluctantly. Soon, she resigned herself to sleep, completely unaware of the horrors taking place just miles away.

* * *

><p>"Shut her up, goddamn it! Shut that goddamn bitch up!"<p>

Dr. Michael Forrest was losing much of his composure as he watched his two companions struggle with a screaming young prostitute in Biochort Inc.'s most confidential laboratory. The woman was shrieking desperately while flailing wildly, and Michael gritted his teeth as he watched his coworkers' pathetic attempts at restraining the incoherent woman.

"Make sure she doesn't break anything!" he snarled; his coworkers' safety was hardly a priority. "And why the fuck haven't you sedated the bitch yet?"

"She really started freaking out when we took out the anesthesia syringe, sir!" squeaked Dr. Ethan James, one of the two men attempting to calm the unruly subject. Ethan was a short, skinny man with dark-rimmed glasses, and the look on his face was nothing short of horror. "She signed the release form, but she's changed her mind…"

"We've got her signature on paper. She's not changing her mind now," said Michael viciously. "And seriously – grow a fucking pair, you two!" he snapped angrily, watching as Ethan and the other scientist, Dr. Henry Jiang, darted helplessly around the captive with full syringes in their hands. "This is how you deal with riffraff like this."

Michael advanced upon the captive and struck out at her with surprising speed. The young woman yelped in pain as her assailant's fist connected with her jaw, and she retaliated with a cry, swiping at Michael with a fierce desperation shining in her eyes. With a scornful snort, Michael grabbed a handful of the woman's hair and smashed her head into the laboratory wall, and she crumpled to the floor, unconscious. Michael glanced down carelessly and nudged the prone form with his foot. "You can sedate her now, gentlemen."

"Shit!" breathed Ethan finally, after a rather pronounced, stunned silence. "Holy shit. Is she okay?"

"Of course she's okay," snapped Michael, looking from the shocked Ethan to the pale-faced Henry with some irritation. "She'll be going through much worse very soon. I don't think a minor head injury will affect the experimental outcomes."

A brief silence ensued after this particularly callous statement, broken once more by an exasperated Michael. "You two are pathetic. Just get me the test vials, will you?"

There was a silent scramble as both men darted off to fetch the vials, eager to escape their boss's presence. Michael did not bother watching them leave; instead he crouched down to where the unconscious woman was lying and began pulling her into an adjacent room that was devoid of much anything, save for a scant bed and a thick-glassed window panel. He shackled the woman's wrists to avoid any future mishaps, and then snatched the experimental vials from Ethan upon his return.

"By the way," said Michael conversationally, reaching for a new syringe, "Before I forget, I have to tell you two something. We're going to have a BSAA agent here starting next week, so try and keep those yappy mouths shut, alright?"

"What?" yelped Ethan, exchanging alarmed looks with Henry. "Are you serious? BSAA? Oh, man…"

"That's definitely not good news," agreed Henry softly. "You sure we shouldn't just put this operation on hold for a bit, Michael?"

"I know it sounds pretty serious," said Michael, now filling the syringe with the experimental vial's dark liquid contents, "But it really won't be that bad. York and I are taking precautions, and the girl won't have access to this laboratory. She'll be working in my other lab, and I'll keep her occupied. I just wanted to let you guys know, so that you don't accidentally let things slip if you happen to run into her."

"So you know who she is already?" asked Henry curiously, and Michael nodded.

"York has a contact within the BSAA, it turns out. We know her identity, and we'll make sure she stays oblivious to our work. I'll agree with you lot though – it's unpleasant news. I'd rather not have the bitch here. Even the slightest threat is unwelcome at this point, but we'll manage."

"What's her name? How will we know it's her?" interjected Ethan, and Michael nodded toward his office.

"I've got her profile on my desk. You can take a look when we're done here, if you desire. The agent's name is Sheva Alomar, but the name she'll be using here is Briana Wilkes. She doesn't seem too threatening, to be honest, but again – we're not taking any chances. Just be wary around her, and keep doing your jobs. York and I will deal with everything else."

"Can we just kill her?" blurted Henry, and Ethan stared at his companion, utterly aghast. Henry looked at his friend defensively, trying to ignore Michael's approving grin.

"I mean, we're already…killing people. What's one more? If you believe in souls, then ours are already in shreds, and if you're just afraid of the punishment…well, if we get found out, we're all getting life sentences, or worse. And if we can eliminate the threat early on, we can reduce the possibility of getting caught..."

"But that's different!" protested Ethan. "Technically….technically our test subjects' immune systems might be able to fight off the infection. That's what tests are for, aren't they? But suggesting we go out and kill that poor girl in cold blood…"

"You know very well that our test subjects are going to die," said Michael bluntly. "So don't attempt to assuage your conscience by pretending otherwise. And however much I admire your bloodthirsty side, Henry, we can't kill her. Think of how suspicious that'd be!"

"Very well," conceded Henry, but his expression was still one of great unease.

Michael finished inoculating his unconscious subject and stood up, prising the latex gloves from his hands carefully. "We're done here, for now. You two can leave. I want another test subject by next week, though," he added, and both Ethan and Henry frowned.

"Next week? We can't keep getting one a week, Michael. People will start noticing…"

"They're prostitutes and homeless bastards," snapped Michael. "Atlanta's crawling with them. No one will notice, and even if they did, they'd just be thankful that we're cleaning up the streets a bit. Just be careful and make sure you have no witnesses."

"Easy for you to say," muttered Henry, his voice bordering on antagonism.

Michael stared at Henry furiously. "If we get caught, I'm in as much shit as you are. More, even. I'm taking the greatest amount of precaution I can, and so far there have been no hiccups of my doing. So shut your fucking mouth and do your damn job, and let me deal with the details!"

Henry and Ethan said nothing and slinked out of the room like chastised pet hounds after this outburst. Michael sighed in exasperation. Henry and Ethan were both incredibly intelligent and very skilled biochemists, but they were so utterly lacking in other aspects. Why did he have to be surrounded by such incompetence?

From the lab, Michael headed to his office, which was located down the hallway of the same floor. From his desk he retrieved his car keys, and then after a moment's hesitation, he picked up Sheva's file too. He flipped the folder open and glanced at the young woman's picture, and his lips curled with derision.

Perhaps he couldn't kill her right away, but he'd make sure she'd suffer by the time it was all over.

* * *

><p>Sheva was pointedly attempting to ignore the leers of a trio of thugs as she knocked on the peeling door of apartment number 217. The apartment was in a shoddy building, located in a shoddy neighborhood, in an obviously shoddy part of town. She half-wondered if it was a requirement for BSAA contacts to be located in such awful places. First the butcher in Kijuju, and now this place…<p>

"Hey, sexy, if yo' boyfriend's blowin' you off, you can come over to my place instead!" called one of the thugs, and his companions laughed unpleasantly and catcalled as she waited in front of the apartment door impatiently.

After another minute and a few more increasingly agitated knocks, the door swung open to reveal a scruffy, shaggy-haired man, who ushered her in quickly before closing and locking the door with a snap. The man, hardly much older than Sheva, scratched his head apologetically before speaking.

"Sorry about that. I wasn't expecting you quite so soon, and I was dozing…"

Sheva's eyes scanned the apartment. It was incredibly cluttered and rather dingy, and though she did not make any remarks, her shaggy-haired companion offered another apology as he followed her gaze. "Yeah – I know it's messy in here. Sorry again. Like I said, I wasn't expecting you so early…"

"Oh, don't worry about it," assured Sheva good-naturedly. "It's the location that throws me off the most. Why exactly did the BSAA situate you here when there are some perfectly nice apartments just a few blocks away?"

"Well, it's cheap," offered the BSAA agent, shrugging. "And I don't mind it, really. Hey – can't I get you something to drink? I'm Gavin, by the way," he added, grinning ruefully. "Can't believe I didn't even introduce myself…"

"I'm Sheva, and it's a pleasure, Gavin," returned Sheva, smiling at Gavin's absentmindedness. "I'm fine, though, thanks."

Gavin opened a Coke and took a few gulps of the drink before speaking again. "So…yeah. Your weapons. And your other stuff. I've got everything ready for you, if you'll give me just a minute…" The young man wandered out of the room into his bedroom, and emerged a few minutes later with a steel case and a keyring with three keys attached to it.

"Here ya go, Sheva. They gave me a nice budget with your weapons, so I got you some nice shit. I heard you like using blades, so I went all-out and picked you up this beauty," gushed Gavin enthusiastically, removing a glittering 10-inch dagger from the case. "Feel how light it is, and just _look _at it. Gorgeous, huh?"

He passed her the weapon and removed the firearm from the case next. "Beretta 92A1. Nothing special, but still – reliable. I tried it out a few times so I can tell you it's fully functional. I'll be around for the next few days if you have problems, but after that I'll be heading out to Tennessee…"

He passed the Beretta to Sheva too, who turned it around in her hands, inspecting the sight and magazine. Finally, Gavin tossed her the keyring and returned to his Coke as he recited the keyring's contents to his guest lazily.

"That first key, with the black handle – that's the key to your car. It's parked in the lot, and I'll walk you down to it when you leave. It's a Toyota – again, nothing special, but functional. The next two keys are the keys to your apartment and your decoy apartment."

"Decoy apartment?" repeated Sheva, raising an eyebrow, and Gavin grinned.

"Fancy, huh? I was told you're on a classified mission, and it was requested of me to rent out two apartments for you. One is where you'll actually be living, and the other is the address that you gave to your employer, I can only assume. The place where you'll actually live is adorable, and as a guy, I don't use that word lightly. It's actually a rental house, and it's furnished and everything already, so you don't even have to do much. The decoy apartment is really an apartment, and it's a lot less appealing. It's also furnished, in case you have to stay there for some reason, but it's not really ideal." Gavin paused and put down his drink. "So…that's all I got. Any questions?"

"I think I've got it," said Sheva, returning the weapons to the metal case. "Is there anything else you need to tell me?"

"Nothing I can remember, though I do have some restaurant recommendations if you're interested," jested Gavin with a grin. "C'mon then – I'll show you to your house, and then you can ditch me and enjoy the rest of your day, before the BSAA bullshit kicks in."

* * *

><p>Sheva's new residence was, as Gavin had so eloquently put it, adorable, and as Sheva reclined on the soft plush couch comfortably, she felt that for the first time in what seemed like forever, things were finally going her way: She was settling well into Atlanta, felt safe with her secret house and new weapons in tow, and was anxious to start her new mission. In fact, there was only one more thing that she wanted to do before focusing all her efforts into her undercover persona the following day.<p>

With hands that almost trembled with excitement, she picked her up cell phone and began dialing a number that she knew by heart, even though she had rarely had the opportunity to call it.

* * *

><p>Chris fidgeted with his neatly-pressed tie uncomfortably, feeling slightly out of place in the expensive Italian restaurant that his sister had suggested for the celebration of his engagement to Jill Valentine. It was odd that he should feel this way, for he had attended many upscale dinners and parties as the face of the BSAA, but even after years of conditioning he would have indefinitely preferred a burger and fries over the fancy Italian cuisine.<p>

From across the table, he watched as Jill chatted with his sister, Claire, and the reality of it all hit him suddenly. _He was going to be married_. It was something that he had always known he would want eventually, but it still felt so odd to think that he would actually be married in a year or so's time. Up to this point, he had never really stopped to think on the subject for very long: he had been much too nervous at the prospect of proposing that he had not had the time to think about anything that might come after. Nevertheless, he felt quite good about it all now, and he smiled lightly to no one in particular before Leon Kennedy nudged him in the ribs none-too-gently.

"My god, _wedding_ talk," groaned Leon in an undertone, nodding towards Jill and Claire. Leon was good friends with Claire, and since she would only be in town for a few days, she had invited her long-time friend to the dinner too. "Those two can kick the brains out of a zombie, and yet they still squeal when they talk about bridal gowns and flower arrangements."

Chris smirked at Leon over his glass of Pinot noir. "You know, you don't have to hide it, Leon. Go ahead and jump into that conversation like you know you want to. Hydrangeas or chrysanthemums, right?"

"Fuck you, man," retorted Leon, loudly enough so that several immaculately-dressed diners shot him scandalized glares, "I don't even know what those are…"

"Flowers, genius," replied Chris, snorting, and Leon raised his eyebrows.

"Quite the fucking botanist, aren't you?" jibed Leon with a grin, and Chris rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to retort when his cell phone trilled blaringly from inside his coat pocket.

"You were supposed to turn that off," said Leon in a mock-serious voice, and Chris, scowling, reached into his pocket to silence the phone. His heart skipped a beat upon looking at the caller ID, however, and he hesitated before getting up.

"I…I gotta take this, guys. I'll be back in just a sec. Is that alright with you?" he added, glancing at Jill dutifully, and his fiancée nodded her assent.

Chris picked his way out of the restaurant carefully, and as he finally exited the crowded place, he could not help but feel a little relieved as he loosened his tie and answered his cell.

"Hey there, partner," he greeted, and he could almost hear the ecstatic grin that was spreading over Sheva's face at the sound of her friend's voice.

"Chris! Oh, Chris, we haven't talked in ages! How are you?"

Chris relished the happy chattering of his pretty ex-partner, but he couldn't help but feel a little guilty at this feeling of elation. He knew that he should tell Sheva about his engagement, but he decided to delay that for a few minutes. For some reason, he felt that the news of his engagement would only bring a damper to the conversation, and thus he danced past the subject deliberately.

"I'm good," he said instead, shrugging his shoulders even though he realized that Sheva couldn't see him. "Enjoying my time off-duty, I guess. How're things with you?"

"I've been better, but things are alright, I suppose," intoned Sheva carelessly. "I have some news though! It's really quite amazing…" He could hear a note of excitement in her voice, and he was not sure why, but it filled him with some apprehension.

"Yeah? And what's that?"

"Guess!" demanded Sheva flippantly, and Chris furrowed his brow.

"Um…" He was not the most articulate of men, and guessing games were never his forte. "A promotion?" he offered, and he heard Sheva's musical laugh.

"Better! I'm in the States, Chris! D'you have some free time to see your old partner? Can I visit you sometime soon?" she said, her voice tilted with excitement.

"Oh!" Chris' stomach leaped joyfully at this news before sinking unpleasantly. It was surely ironic that Sheva would decide to visit him after he had been certain that he would not see her again for some time. For one terrible second, he regretted proposing to Jill, for another encounter with Sheva was just what he needed to sort out his convoluted feelings, but a second later he felt even worse for thinking such a thought, and he forced himself to push any romantic feelings he harbored for Sheva aside as he answered.

"Wow, that's great news!" he managed finally, forcing a cheerful note into his tone. "But I thought you always said that you've seen enough of the States already. Thought you wanted to see Europe if you had some time off…"

"I'm not here for a vacation," chirped Sheva. "I'm here for…work. I'll be here for months – maybe a year, and maybe longer – I'm not entirely sure myself. I've been having a bit of trouble back home, and it's really nice to get off and have a change of scenery, you know."

"Months…" The feeling of regret stabbed at him again, and this time it lingered uncomfortably. "Wow. Well, yeah, of course you have to come visit…us…Jill would love to see you again too," he compelled himself to add.

"Oh!" This time it was Sheva's turn to sound a little surprised. She regained her composure quickly, however, and had Chris not known her so well, he would have missed the slight reluctance in her voice. "I'd love to see you—both of you! Would next week be alright?"

"Yeah, that'd be great," said Chris, the forced, cheeriness still lingering in his tone. "I'll pick you up at the airport, even. Let me know when your flight is, and I'll be there to meet you."

"That sounds wonderful," said Sheva. For the first time, an uncomfortable pause extended between them, and Chris interrupted it with a soft cough.

"Well, I have to go. Can't wait to see you, okay?" he muttered softly, glancing back at the restaurant's doors guiltily.

"See you soon," agreed Sheva, a small amount of uncertainty in her voice now, and Chris snapped his phone shut, his stomach ill.

_He was going to be married._ Meeting up with Sheva was a terrible idea, and he knew it. The last thing he needed was a reason to doubt his relationship with Jill, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted to Sheva again – needed to see her again.

"Fuck," sighed Chris, tugging at his tie subconsciously. With that, he made his way back to the restaurant, but he no longer felt giddy and elated. He felt guilty, frustrated, and above all, he felt very, very confused.


End file.
